Bullet Catchers
by JazzBo22
Summary: An assassination attempt leaves Rufus questioning his vulnerability. The Turks struggle to keep the President out of harm's way, but is it enough? Tseng/Rufus, Rude/Reno,Angst, Language, M/M, Violence,lemon,complete! RATED MA
1. Chapter 1

**Bullet Catchers**

**By Jazzbo22**

An assassination attempt leaves Rufus questioning his vulnerability. The Turks struggle to keep the President out of harm's way, but is it enough?

TsengxRufus, RudexReno, yaoi, angst

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Chapter One

"_God damnit!_" Rufus slammed his fist against his marble desk, immediately regretting the action. A shooting pain stabbed up his arm, gathering in his elbow. Gingerly, he massaged the sore joint, glaring at the abundance of paperwork laid out before him.

It was the same old, same old of everyday. More paperwork, no time for anything but. He would sit down with a cup of coffee and a bottle of aspirin, and proceed to work through the pile. When that was done, his secretary would just _magically_ know, bringing in another pile.

No, no, no. Rufus was becoming mighty sick of this routine, having executed it for the past five years. Sure, back then he was still Vice President of Shinra Inc, but that didn't dissipate the workload.

Exhaling loudly, the young President took a seat in his rather posh leather chair, overlooking the whole mess of what once was his desk.

"_Jesus_, if they wanted to kill me, this is the way to go about it." He muttered under his breath, instinctively flipping a strand of fine golden hair off his forehead.

Diligently, and not to mention reluctantly, Rufus set to work, signing the appropriate papers, trashing others (the "PEACE" group of Midgar, composed of Mideel hippies, was not his concern). It was the same monotonous routine, and he despised it, right to the very core of his being.

"Oh, somebody just kill me now." He muttered to no one in particular, throwing his signed paperwork into a bin on his desk labeled 'finished'. That way when his secretary came in later she could just grab it and put it in the mail, the easy work. Have it all marked and sent out, and still be home to cook dinner and get it on the table for her family by 6pm. What a life. He pulled the next pile into the middle of his desk, sorting through the papers to find the sheets he actually had to read, as opposed to just sign. Through his years of working he had learned that anything submitted by Heidegger or Scarlet demanded an immediate read-through – they could not be trusted to use Shinra's money wisely. Papers and reports from Tseng or Reeve though – he didn't bother reading before signing his name at the bottom. They were competent people, he didn't need to waste his time reading through a report he already knew was checked thoroughly before being submitted.

"_Rufus, meeting in ten_." The intercom crackled, his secretary's lovely voice among the static. With an irritated sigh, he scribbled a quick 'don't touch this' post-it note and stuck it to the looming stack of papers. It was a reminder to his secretary, lest she be retarded and decide to mail this stack to keep her fingers off. His last secretary had a habit of taking every paper off his desk and sending them off, not bothering to check if all pages had been signed. He didn't want to go through the time correcting that big fuck-up again. No sirree, not him.

Grabbing his white blazer, he sorted last minute through the papers before heading to Conference Room 4b. He hated meetings almost as much as he hated paperwork, but some things had to be done in order to run the company effectively.

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Trying not to appear completely disinterested, Rufus sat at the head on the elongated table, studying every occupant with a cold eye. Palmer, Scarlet, Reeve, and Heidegger sat to the left of him, while Tseng, Rude, Reno and Elena on the right.

"Ahh-hmmm!" Palmer cleared his throat, the scratchy sound drawing all eyes on him. The pudgy man immediately began fidgeting under the intense watch.

"So, this meeting has been called to address some of the concerns of President Shinra's upcoming public speech."

Shit, shit, shit. He had forgotten about that. Everything was so much easier when they would just set up a news camera in his office and he could address the public from behind his desk. Not this time though. In order to restore faith to the people and gain important support for the Shinra Co., he had to do this publicly. Apparently his father was not a huge fan of public speaking so he had done it only a handful of times in his career. Rufus wanted to show his supporters that he was a different kind of leader, and that meant doing more of what his father refused to.

Palmer was still speaking, and Rufus had to force himself to actually pay attention to what the pudgy man was talking about. God, were those food stains on his tie…?

"Due to a number of obvious reasons, the filtering of attendees and the security has to be at an all time high. When the President is right out in public in front of hundreds of people, it is worrisome." Palmer finished, wiping his sweaty palms on his thighs. Reeve nodded approvingly. Heidegger stood, taking the burden from Palmer. Seemed like addressing a small conference like this was almost too much for the little guy. Rufus had to suppress a smirk. Everyday he was given little reminders like this as to why he was the perfect man to run this company. Everyone else was inadequate.

"Of course, there's nothing to worry about really. Time and time before there has been no worry about the President's safety during a speech, but it's always good to stay on the safe side." Heidegger seemed like he was trying to assure Rufus and the rest of the table. His facts weren't quite right though, especially since Rufus had been keeping up with the newspapers. In fact, one of the reports he had just signed was to recognize a newly appointed Ambassador of Junon. The last one faced an unfortunate demise.

"That's not true." Rufus finally decided to speak, his voice cutting through whatever Heidegger had been babbling on about before. Time to restore order here, show the authority.

"If I may ask sir, what is untrue?" Rufus reclined in his chair, casually placing his arms on the armrests. Heidegger looked at him almost like a beaten dog. His expression was truly pathetic.

"Wasn't that Ambassador from Junon murdered during a public outage?" Heidegger coughed, flustered. Seemed like someone didn't do a complete fact-check before coming to this conference today. Rufus could bet that Heidegger had been paying some low-level grunt to handle the paperwork. Heidegger was only interested in receiving money to start another weapons project. Anything else apparently didn't concern him, even when it was something so important as the President's safety.

"Well, yes, I suppose. Mr. President, your safety is always the first priority. We have taken it into account already, which is why all the Turks are present at this meeting. Later on in the week, everyone involved with the Supreme Conference Centre during your speech will receive a handout of the complete procedure. To do a quick run down, Rude will first filter the politicians at the door with the assistance of a metal detector and a handful of SOLDIERS, checking for weapons, patting down reporters. After that has been done, he will move to the main room, where you are. His posts will be laid out in the mission plan. Tseng will always be right near you, off to the side of the podium. He will have a complete view of the room. Elena will be in the rafters, while Reno will be on a rotational cycle on the ground floor." Tseng interrupted after Heidegger had finished.

"You will submit to me a full list of who will be attending, so we can run background checks." It wasn't a question. Rufus had to grin at the ballsy-ness of his personal protector. Even though Heidegger was Tseng's superior, it seemed the Wutaian could get away with just about anything, including handing out orders to your own boss. If it was, say Reno, Heidegger would have told him where to shove it and probably would have given him a week's worth of reports to get through. Tseng on the otherhand – you didn't want to mess with him. If he gave you an order, you nod and get the appropriate files on his desk -_immediately. _

Rufus pushed off with the heels of his feet, standing gracefully. All heads turned to him, seeing the obvious dismissal in his eyes.

"If that is everything, I'm going to head back to my office now. Mission objectives should be handed out asap. All corners covered. We don't want this to turn into a problem and embarrass the company. Tseng, I expect to be briefed by you early next week." His head Turk nodded, standing as well.

With a straight back and elegance only he knew of, Rufus glided out of the conference room, back to his office. Back to a paper loaded hell that awaited him.

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"You know, I have never seen something so fucked up as this." Reno remarked, trying not to spill the jelly from his donut on the handout. Rude shrugged, keeping his cup of coffee _far_ away from Reno. Last time they sat like this, Reno had had some outburst of incredulousness and knocked his steaming hot mug onto his crotch. That had been uncomfortable, to say the least. He had walked funny for a week.

They had been seated in the Shinra cafeteria for over an hour now, discussing the upcoming 'mission' and looking over the handout that they had received just that morning. Tseng had told Heidegger to jump basically, and the large man did. They had their mission outlines in record time (record time for Heidegger anyways) and were now going over the details with a fine-toothed comb.

"If this is the way Heidegger wants to execute this, then we can't argue." Elena perked up, taking a seat at the table beside Rude.

"Fuck _that._ It's so vague, he might as well of written it when he was on the crapper. He probably did anyways. We're going to have to rewrite the entire fucking thing, our style." Reno spat, a purple glob of grape jelly now adorning the paper.

"Reno, just remember this plan is based around the old formats of similar missions. I mean, we've supervised speeches before, why is this one any different?" Elena smiled prettily at the redhead, who was stuffing his face with a vengeance. Hey, he wasn't the one who packed a _goddamn lunch._ Did Elena really have a purple plastic _lunchbox?_ Christ!

"First of all, this isn't just an ordinary talk n' bail, you know, 'wham bam thank ya ma'am' kind of speech. President Shinra is discussing key issues in the business world that everyone in their right mind who is interested in that work field would attend. Like, _everyone. _Heidegger may have said hundreds of people, but I'm thinking more like _thousands_."

"Oh, well, that's just more people right?" Reno stared at the blonde woman, seriously considering that she may actually just have air floating around in her head. She didn't think this was a huge security issue…?

"Do you know how hard it is to keep track of that many people? Every Turk will be there, as well as SOLDIERS, but can we guarantee that every person attending has been accounted for? I don't think so. It's risky enough as it is, President Shinra appearing publicly at a time when the world is going haywire is _not_ a good thing." Elena sighed.

"I guess I see your point." Reno smirked indignantly.

"That's because I'm great."

"Don't go patting yourself on the back yet." A smooth voice cut through the air. Tseng stood behind the redhead, looking thoughtful and sharp at the same time. Only Tseng could do that. Most people would just come off looking confused or angry, but not their Tseng.

"Everything that you had mentioned is true Reno. I was just talking to Heidegger about the plan myself. He is convinced that everything has been considered. What my biggest concern is the size of the room in relation to the number of people. Will we have a complete view of the layout and also keep an eye on the crowd?" Everyone was silent, considering this. Rude took a sip of the dark, hot liquid steaming out of his mug. He cleared his throat to speak.

"You'll supervised there recently boss. I'm afraid I do not have a clear recollection of the dimensions of the room." Tseng threw a notepad on the table, already having anticipated Rude's statement.

"Those are a collection of all the notes I have made in my time working within that room. It's got the square feet of the conference room, all exits, usual security setup, placement of security cameras. If you have questions, come see me. I expect you to have my notes committed to memory by the end of the day. We can't afford for anything to go wrong.

"We'll just have to work with what we have. I've managed to 'persuade' Heidegger into inserting a couple more SOLDIERs into the layout, so each exit is covered. I imagine everything will be fine, since you yourself Rude will be overseeing the admission to the building. Just make sure that you are prepared for the worst." Tseng turned to leave, just as Reno swallowed the last of his donut and spoke.

"Like grenades and machine gun ammo? Don't forget the turrets." Tseng glared at Reno's dry humor.

"I'll see you in two days, 11:30pm sharp. We have to be at the Supreme Conference Centre at noon." Turning on his heel, Tseng left the group of three.

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"And so you see, democracy relies upon good business interactions and a strong body working under them…" Rufus couldn't believe the monotone voice leaving his lips. He was rehearsing his speech in the helicopter, bored to the point where he was actually considering rewriting the whole thing. But, that would piss off his speech writers, right? Can't do that.

The idea couldn't present itself anyways, the Supreme Conference Center coming into view. Already the SOLDIERs and Turks (minus Tseng- he was piloting the helicopter) were in the building, slowly working through the large crowd of politicians.

Even from an aerial view, it was blatantly obvious that there was a large crowd gathered today. The young President's eyes narrowed to the point where he could just barely make out Rude's navy blazer at the doors. The bald Turk cut a large figure dressed in dark, but even among the sea of pale clothes he was hard to pick out.

"Mr. President, any more practicing and you will be over-rehearsed." The blonde haired man sighed.

"I suppose you're right." The helicopter landed gently on the roof of the Center, it's propellers eventually slowing to a stop. With Tseng's close eye trained on him, Rufus exited the aircraft, a flock of SOLDIERs accumulated on the roof to insure the President's safety.

Tseng was immediately by the younger man's side, the duo entering the building and swiftly making their way to the main hall, where Rufus was due for his speech. Taking a deep breath, Rufus peered around the doorway, taking in the size of the audience. It was enormous compared to last year's. Great.

Brushing his hair out of his face, deciding to just get it over with, Rufus stepped into the large room, up to the podium, the microphone waiting for him. Tseng trailed close behind, making absolutely no noise, the whisper of his clothes acceptable.

The audience stood and applauded the President as he stood at the podium, the flash of cameras going off in three second intervals. Rufus put on a straight face and endured it, nodding approvingly to the crowd as the applause died off.

"Like on every continent in this world, a prominent business relies on entrepreneurial spirit…" Almost like being on autopilot, Rufus recited the speech. If he were to stop and actually think for just a second, he would throw off his rhythm. He was comfortable though, completely at ease in front of the large body of people and the persistent flashes from the cameras. If anything were to happen to him, he wouldn't see it before it was too late. His eyes were already blinded from all the flashing lights.

Any screwups would be fatal.

Elena patrolled the rafters, occasionally glancing down towards the President, silently admiring how he could stand up in front of thousands (Reno was right about that) of people and cameras without batting an eyelash.

A sound in a grate caught her attention. It was just a small scratchy sound, but it was enough to have her hand trained on the butt of her gun. She knew she might act like an airhead sometimes (well, almost always) but she was trained to fight, favoured for her steady hand and thoughtfulness.

The noise stopped for a few minutes, randomly starting up again. By now, Elena had sent a SOLDIER to go check on the ventilation drafts, seeing if anything, like a rat, had managed to get through one of the grates.

Staring at the grate, she was not all expecting it to open. Before she even had a chance to shout out, a strong arm wrapped around her throat, cutting off her air supply, causing her to drop her gun. Gasping roughly, she felt something jab into her neck before everything went black.

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Tseng was studying the audience, looking for anything abnormal. He was thankful for bringing his raybands today – usually Rude was the only one to wear them indoors, but with all the cameras he would have been blind otherwise.

Glancing up at the rafters, he could see minimal movement. It was too high up to make out faces, just figures. Squinting, he managed to see blonde hair before it disappeared from view as something- or someone, large and dressed in black had stepped in the way.

Immediately warning bells went off in his head. Lifting his hand, he cupped his palm over his earpiece.

"We've got a situation in Rafter A, report immediately. I repeat, something suspicious in Rafter A. Elena?"

"Got it boss. On my way to check." Reno had answered. The line was quiet from Elena. That was enough to send his mind into overdrive.

"Are there SOLDIERs up there? I need a report now, damnit." The line was still silent from up above. Tseng was staring at the rafters, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. Something wasn't right…

The glint off of what looked like a sniper rifle was all he needed to leap into action.

"Gun." He reported calmly over his line. All was like slow motion- he had leapt up onto the podium, grabbing the President and covering his body with his own. The shot was faintly heard (no doubt the work of a silencer) The bullet hitting him squarely in the shoulder, sending blood splattering onto Rufus' cheek and across the bridge of his nose.

What seemed like hours was more accurately 1.38 seconds, before the place exploded with life. The pain in his shoulder was excruciating, but nothing compared to the relief he felt that it wasn't Rufus' face instead. With a speed that no one (except the Turks) had seen, he pulled Rufus off the stage and out the back door and up the stairs to the roof of the building, leaving the other Turks and SOLDIERs to capture and investigate where they went wrong.

With blood now steadily leaking out of his shoulder, Tseng started up the helicopter engine, the machine lifting gracefully off the building. Fuck, it hurt more than he remembered. The last time he had been shot was years ago, back before he was a pro.

He spared Rufus a quick glance before lifting the chopper in the air, recognizing the look in the young man's eyes. Rufus had known right at the impact of the bullet that if Tseng had not been there for him, he would've been dead on that podium. The President's head was level with Tseng's shoulder.

Holy shit, this wasn't supposed to happen. What had gone wrong? Tseng headed for HQ, intent on figuring out how this goatfuck unfolded.

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Thank you for reading! More to come soon. Please leave a comment if you feel like that, I get motivated hearing what all of you have to say

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	2. Chapter 2

**Bullet Catchers**

**By Jazzbo22**

**Jazzbo22 hotmail . com**

An assassination attempt leaves Rufus questioning his vulnerability. The Turks struggle to keep the President out of harm's way, but is it enough?

TsengxRufus, RudexReno, yaoi, angst

A/N: Reviews are always appreciated. I like to share in your enjoyment :P Or learn from your comments. Thank you!

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**Chapter Two**

"Get the President out of there now!" Heidegger barked orders through the outrageous racket on the roof of the Shinra Building. The helicopter had landed only seconds ago, paramedics pulling Rufus out of his seat, rushing him indoors. Tseng was attended to immediately afterwards, though the President always came first.

Once inside of the building, the medical personnel disinfected Tseng's shoulder, pulling the bullet out. Thank god for morphine. He experienced mild discomfort but it was a hell of a lot better than doing it without any anesthetic. They had performed and ultrasound but it didn't appear that any bone or organs had been damaged. The bullet had picked a good place to lodge itself it seemed. A kindly old nurse had Tseng stitched up and off the table before Rufus was done with his own check-up.

Although he hadn't taken a hit from a bullet, Tseng had been rough in his handling of the President. Circumstances called for him to be quick in evacuating the President, and in the bustle of activity, he hoped he had not cracked one of the young man's ribs.

As soon as the doctor gave Tseng the go ahead, he was off searching for Rufus. He did not like being separated from him very long- Rufus was his responsibility, should anything happen to him, he would solely take the blame, whether he was meant to or not.

It didn't take very long- the security surrounding the room where Rufus was held was bountiful. Pushing through the SOLDIERs, uncaring of his ripped and bloodied dress shirt, Tseng entered the room, pleased to see the paramedics just finishing up. Thank god, there didn't seem to be any visible injuries. Rufus wasn't holding himself like a man who had a couple broken ribs. Instead, he sat on the edge of the medical bed, looking mighty pissed off. Tseng figured that was good news at least.

"What's your status?" Tseng leaned close to ask, knowing Rufus did not want to broadcast it. The less the people knew about him, the better. He was somewhat pale, but not entirely worse for wear.

"Slight shock, nothing else." The blonde replied, giving Tseng a once over. He knew his bloodied, ripped shirt looked much more frightening than it actually was. That didn't matter anymore though. He sighed, eternally grateful that he hadn't caused Rufus any bodily harm.

"Let me escort you home then."

"What about your shoulder?" Tseng gave an unconcerned shrug.

"It's wrapped up. I'm fine." He led Rufus out to the Shinra parking lot, a trained hand on his gun the whole time. After an assassination attempt- the first one against Rufus, you could never be sure what creeps were crawling around, anxious to finish the job.

Tseng unlocked the standard Turk black Mercedes, carefully seating himself, not wanting to cause anymore unnecessary pain to his shoulder. Rufus was quiet beside him, buckling his seatbelt before slouching back into the leather interior.

Starting up the engine, Tseng left the confines of the underground parking lot, entering the busy streets of Midgar. It would be no time until the story of the attempted assassination hit the air. Reporters were probably just perfecting their stories, or fluffing their hair, each and every one of them frothing at the mouth, just waiting to see who could be the first one to get the story out on the radio or television.

When that happened, the telephones at Shinra Inc. would be ringing off their hooks, wanting interviews from the President (since it was common knowledge that the Turks did not talk to reporters), people swarming the entrance of the building- it would be outright chaos.

Anyone who chose to go against the President of Shinra Inc., the biggest company in the world, was a dead man. Technically, Rufus might be the President of that company, but metaphorically, he was the President of the world. People would be dying to get the latest scoop on this tidbit of media.

Druggies and drunkards, customers and thieves, respectfully stepped out of the way of the Mercedes. It was well known what that car meant- official Turk business. You didn't mess with that, unless you wanted your teeth embedded in the sidewalk.

"What's the plan now?" Rufus asked, staring out the side window. Tseng had to commend him – the man was _strong._ His voice was clear, he sat up straight. Tseng spared a quick glance to the side to catch Rufus' reflection in the glass and yes- he even looked a little bored. Rufus had perfected the art of keeping everyone at arms length from his emotions. The old saying associated with him, "_no one has ever seen him bleed or cry"_, still rang true. Tseng was glad of that. He preferred the first blood that Rufus would spill not be from a bullet in between the eyes. A papercut sat much nicer with him.

"The plan is to keep you in your residence overnight. We've upped the security so you should be safe there. Tomorrow I'll personally escort you into HQ where you can deliver your first message after the 'incident'. Best to refrain from talking to any reporters until you've made that speech. Your secretary has already set it up, and it will be broadcasted internationally."

"Seems like all bases have been covered then." Rufus betrayed his cold exterior by rubbing at his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. The weight of the entire situation most definitely affected him. Rufus never had to deal with anything like this. Sure, there were angry mobs from time to time, not everyone loved Shinra, but they were silenced before the President ever took notice of them.

Nearly having your head blown off would be a major wake-up call. Anyone else would've shit their pants by now – Rufus, he just looked fatigued, like a headache was all he was dealing with.

Being President just came naturally. Rufus thrived in power positions. Tseng knew for a fact he learned that all from his late father. He had been in the company for years and had watched the former President Shinra in his prime. He had also seen how he had raised Rufus – dealing with his son and dealing within the company was all business to him.

"What is happening with the investigation right now?" Now Rufus was facing him. Tseng could see out of his peripherals that the President was looking at him intently.

"The Turks are on it. Heidegger's got some of his SOLDIERs on the scene. I've called in a personal favour to Randolph Gomez. He used to do quite a lot of work for your father."

"I remember."

"It's all in good hands. I'll be regrouping with the Turks after I drop you off. We won't rest until this case is solved." He heard a small sigh escape Rufus. He was probably more tired than he let on. Hell, Tseng was tired and he hadn't even started looking into the investigation yet. It was going to be a long day, even longer night. That, and with the sharp ache in his shoulder – would be nice to just go home and chill on the couch with a beer, even a hot shower would be perfect right about now. Business called though, and when that happened, he was lucky to make it through his front door. Assignments like this meant he slept in his office for one or two hours at a time.

Zigzagging through the busy streets of Midgar, they came to the expensive part of town. Houses like these were reserved for the top plates. The people that lived here had never spent a day walking through the slums. It was hard to believe that Midgar wasn't completely made up of the polluted underground that Tseng was so used to patrolling.

It was easy to pick out Rufus' estate from all the others. It had high fences, a security booth at the front entrance of the gate with a Shinra guard working at all times. Within the compound there were two more guard stations, and finally, the winding driveway leading up to an impressive mansion. On any normal day Rufus would have the regular guards working as security. This day was a far cry from usual.

The Shinra guard checked Tseng's ID before letting him through the barbed wire fence. SOLDIERs patrolled around the house, as well as regular Shinra guards closer to the streets. Vicious looking dogs had been brought in, probably more for visual effect than anything.

"This is my protection then." Rufus spoke, looking around the yard.

"For your safety the security on your property has been increased until the threat is eliminated. The guards change at irregular hours so that anyone who might be monitoring them won't be able to get a read on when they rotate. We've made sure that they won't have an advantage over us." Rufus nodded, reaching for the door handle. Tseng exited swiftly and was standing outside Rufus' door before the President had a chance to plant his shoes on the concrete. Tseng shut the door behind him and walked him up the stairs to the front of his estate.

"If you have any concerns, you can reach me at anytime…we'll find out who did this sir. Try and get some rest." Tseng could read Rufus well enough. The younger man looked tired, stressed. Tseng was used to attempts on his life daily – Turks got into fights on a regular basis. Not the President though. Any threats on him should be dealt with before he is even aware of it. Tseng saw this as a failure on everyone's part. Rufus should never have had to deal with this.

"Get this dealt with by the end of this week, latest. I want your progress report on my desk tomorrow morning."

"Yes sir." Tseng waited until Rufus had locked his front door before heading back to his vehicle. What had happened shouldn't have. All entrances and exits had been accounted for. SOLDIERs and Turks had been placed on every level, the building had been thoroughly checked prior to letting anyone in- he knew he was going to be up all night trying to clear up the whole mess, which didn't even include the broadcasting network. No doubt the live footage would be sold off to the highest bidder now, if it already wasn't on the air.

It wasn't even six o'clock and he could already see the evening passing him by. Shit, he could feel his own headache starting a slow pound in the back of his skull. He hoped Reno, Rude, or Gomez had come up with some sort of lead while he was out. If they couldn't come up with anything…Tseng didn't even want to think about that.

Pulling off into the busy Midgar streets, Tseng pulled out his PHS. A familiar voice greeted him.

"Rude."

"What's going on?"

"You're not going to like this boss…"

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"Fuck, fuck FUCK!" Reno was standing underneath a grate that had been so obviously the point of entry. They must have penetrated it quietly, otherwise Reno had no idea how Elena could not have heard them behind her. She had been standing only feet away.

The grate had been cleanly – and silently removed. It was sitting just inside the air duct when they had discovered it. Now it was in the labs being tested for fingerprints. Reno had already climbed inside the air duct and had followed it in both directions. One way had connected directly to the roof, the other had connected to the first and second floors.

"Whoever did this was good. Not any typical gang, these guys were definitely pros." Reno muttered, more to Rude than anything. Randolph Gomez was off doing his own thing, and the SOLDIERs? Whatever Heidegger had ordered. Reno knew Tseng had personally called in Gomez, so the man must be good. Reno wasn't about to get in his way, especially since right now he looked mighty pissed off about something.

Other than the grate, nothing jumped out as a big clue. The whole operation had gone smoothly for whoever had done it. No doors had been breached, no guards had been killed. In fact, the only casualty had been Elena. Well, and Tseng.

The guards that had been patrolling the first and second floors had been brought in for questioning. The roof had been ruled out since both Tseng and Rufus had been there. If anything had been askew, Tseng's eagle eye would've noticed it. The boss didn't miss a thing.

"If you were a terrorist, where would you pop out from?" He sauntered down the hallway on the first floor where the grate was located. Nothing hit him as unusual. The place looked as well kept as if the custodian had just passed through.

"We'll learn more after the guards have been interrogated." Reno heard the last of Rude's phone call. Coming to stand beside him, he took in Rude's grim expression. Looks like the boss man's stony expression infected people through the phones as well.

"Tseng's pretty pissed eh?" Rude's curt nod answered Reno. When Tseng was angry – it was ugly. He's a silent man when angry. Then he cuts you up and you didn't even have a chance to see it coming. Reno had felt it a couple times. Especially that time he was desperate for a vacation after being declined for so long. He had applied for maternity leave and…let's just say when it passed Tseng's desk he was not a happy camper.

"He's going to be here in fifteen minutes." What? Oh, it speaks. Rude was talking to him.

"Well then. We'd better find something useful to show him besides the screamingly obvious grate-removal we have up top. Elena's in a coma so she's not going to be any help to us. Last I heard she was banged up pretty bad. I know that'll ruffle Tseng's feathers even more." Rude didn't even bother agreeing. Status report for Elena didn't look too good.

Reno leaned against one of the walls, hands in his pockets. As far as he could tell, the whole damn thing had been one giant failure on their parts. Never before had security been breached so badly that the President's life was directly in jeopardy. He could just imagine all the copycats getting wet thinking about doing the same thing. Their jobs just got a lot harder.

Rude perched himself on the wall opposite him. Well, perched was the wrong word. Rude was too much of an opposing figure to just perch, like a little birdie. The man was a wall. Rude stood like a _wall _across from him, his thick arms crossed against a broad chest. Now, if Rude had been standing in this place when the terrorists came through, they wouldn't have stood a chance at getting past him. Reno made a mental note to suggest it for next time. Yessir, Rude the wall is coming to the rescue.

"We're going to be here all night aren't we?" Reno asked, deadpan. Rude's lips tightened into a flat line. Yup, they were going to be here all night. That was Rude showing his displeasure.

"I hope they have coffee. I could really use one. I would say a beer but I think I see boss man – yeah, Tseng's here. I thought you said fifteen minutes? Maybe he meant fifteen seconds. Quick, look busy." Tseng had come around the corner, his special Turk homing beacon spot on. For some reason it really worked, especially when Reno was doing something he shouldn't have. It's like getting caught with your hand down your pants – Tseng always walked in and then it was awkward.

"Hello boss." Reno greeted, coming to stand beside Rude. Tseng stopped in front of them.

"No word from the interrogation yet?" He asked smoothly. Reno supposed it was entirely a Wutaian thing, having a smooth voice even when pissed, looking elegant even though he had been shot. Looks like the big bad boss didn't even have time to change his shirt. He was still covered with his own now dry blood, looking like something out of a horror movie. Well, the clothes anyways. Tseng's face and hair were always impeccable. No one could ever disturb that. Even when he was swiftly removing the President from the building Tseng's stoic expression had remained the same. He was destined to remain coldly handsome forever. Reno was jealous. How did he keep his long hair so clean and in place all the time? Well, he probably wasn't combing the slums on a daily basis, in and out of bars looking for the latest suspect like he and Rude were. Tseng worked in HQ alongside the President, unless the Turks desperately needed him.

It seemed Rude had already answered him, because if it were possible, Tseng just got more quiet, more angry. Don't hurt us please.

"All of this doesn't sit well with me. Rude, I want you back at HQ, in the interrogation room. It shouldn't have been that easy to get all the way up to the rafters. Reno, you're going to all the broadcasting networks. I want copies of all the tapes of today's incident. Maybe we can spot something from that. Go over it with a fine-toothed comb. Any tapes that look like they might be useful are on my desk, five hours. I want the both of you reporting to me at 0100. We won't leave HQ until we have something of significance."

Great, how come Rude gets to kick teeth in, and he had to watch tapes forever? Sometimes life wasn't fair.

"Gomez will also be joining us. If you haven't already been introduced I suggest you do so soon. We'll be working with him up until this is cleared up. Any information you discover can be shared with him. Don't speak to SOLDIERs, don't speak to grunts. If reporters are on you the only words you'll be speaking are 'no comment'."

"Jeez Tseng, are you having trust issues?" The look he shot him told Reno enough.

"We are keeping this quiet for now. No more slip-ups. Everyone's a suspect." With that, Tseng turned, walking towards the far side of the conference room, towards Gomez.

"Hey Rude, what is this Gomez guy doing anyways?" Rude just shrugged.

"Maybe we should actually talk to him, if we're going to be working so close. I like to know who's doing what on the team. You know, avoiding stepping on each other's toes. And hey, it's no fair you get to be part of the interrogation unit, while I have to run to news networks. It's so goddamn boring. And all I get to say is 'no comment'."

"This time, don't give the bird to the reporters when you leave." Rude offered, the hint of a grin appearing. Reno remembered that. For some reason it had been a real spectacle. Tseng had not been happy with him then as well. Jeez, why did he even keep him around? Oh yeah, he could kill with his bare hands. And was good with C4. And his moral compass was lacking. Well, he sure sounded like the ideal Turk candidate. Throw in keen and observant and he might as well be the golden worker.

"Let's go visit this Gomez guy." They walked over to where Tseng was standing with the man, probably exchanging details. Gomez had looked pissed earlier, probably because he had found something. Reno hoped so. They both looked up as Reno and Rude approached, stopping their hushed whispers.

"Reno, Rude, this is Randolph Gomez. He's worked with Shinra for the past twenty years. Mostly as a spy, computer specialist, occasional right-hand man to the President."

"So the go-to guy?" Reno asked, shaking his hand. Gomez gave him a ghost of a smile.

"You could say that."

"Gomez'll be pouring over security tapes, shift logs. Seems he may have found something interesting there."

"Yes. Though I have to do more investigating before I can really comment on it. I don't want to lead anyone on with false information or ideas. It seems like the cameras were tampered with but I have to look into it more."

"That's where Reno comes in. He'll be looking at all the live footage from the reporters. That should definitely give some insight. Rude will be part of the interrogation team, scare up whoever was responsible guarding the places that were breached. We'll meet in my office at 0100, so that gives you seven hours to gather whatever evidence you can. Don't make me disappointed."

Tseng had left then, off on his own assignment from the president. Gomez had given them a quick nod before retreating to the security room, off to figure out what had gone on in all the hallways that were supposedly being guarded. Reno gave Rude a mock salute before heading to the door.

"I'm off to schmooze with the networks. Wish me luck."

"Good luck." Reno walked towards the exit, pulling out his PHS.

"Hi. I'm with the Turks. I'm picking up all the footage you have of today's events. Have it at the front counter in half an hour…no ma'am, if it's not there I have no problem going in and extracting it myself, I just hope for your sake it doesn't come to that." Hanging up, he unlocked his company car, the standard black Mercedes. If all went well, he could be looking over the tapes and be done by the time he was supposed to be at Tseng's meeting. God, coffee was needed right about now.


	3. Chapter 3

**Bullet Catchers**

**By Jazzbo22**

**Jazzbo22 hotmail . com**

An assassination attempt leaves Rufus questioning his vulnerability. The Turks struggle to keep the President out of harm's way, but is it enough?

TsengxRufus, RudexReno, yaoi, angst

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Chapter Three**

Getting the tapes from the networks had been easy enough. Apparently they didn't like anyone creating a fuss, threatening their workers. Knowing the person roughing them up was a Turk really helped. Everyone knew Shinra's Administrative Research Department dealt in some shady business. The black Mercedes had a reputation of its own, as well as the navy uniforms. All Reno had to do was walk into the building, lay his hand on his nightstick, and magically all the tapes were on the front counter in a neat little cardboard box.

Before heading to his office he had stopped at a Starbucks or whatever the crap it was called – only the top plate had gourmet coffee. After his first sip he had tossed the damn thing out the window. Too sweet. He liked the dark, bitter shit that was sold underneath, or in the donut shops around the city. Yeah, that stuff was good. Making one more stop, he had picked up a proper black coffee, finally satisfying his caffeine craving. Looking at tape after tape would be hard if his mind was on his coffee all the time.

He was glad he didn't have a nicotine addiction, like Scarlet. God, she was always complaining that she needed a cigarette, and she always stunk. He worked that shit through his system way back before he was a Turk, while he was a poor kid doing whatever it took to make ends meet in the slums. Smoking, sex and experimental drugs were fun, cool then. Not so much when you have to spend days hiding in the grass or snow waiting for your victim to appear- going through withdrawal isn't fun. Or running after your prey for blocks and blocks – the first time he had to do that he realized quickly that his lungs were in bad shape, and that he had to pull it together.

Stopping at Shinra HQ, he parked underneath the building. Hauling the four full boxes out of his trunk, he slammed it and made his way over the elevator. Damn, these things were _heavy._ Pressing the 'up' button, he waited.

So much had happened today, it left him with almost a surreal feeling. In the event that the President's life was in danger, anyone of the Turks was expected to take damage for him. He was the only person on Shinra staff they had to be prepared to sacrifice their life for. Up until today, no one ever had to catch a bullet for him. It was so unreal to see Tseng step in front of him and absorb it with no second thought for his own health. Never before had Reno seen his boss actually get _hurt._ He and Rude got into all sorts of shit all the time so he was used to accompanying his partner to the ICU, and vice versa. Tseng though? No way. He used to be the unbleedable boss. Now he was human. It was weird.

Stepping into the elevator, Reno stared at his reflection in the glass. With everything taken into account though, if the roles had been reversed and he had seen whatever Tseng had seen, he would have pushed Rufus out of the way and taken the hit. The only thinking that goes into that kind of a situation is protecting the President. You can think about how stupid you were to put yourself purposely in front of a _fucking bullet_ later. And you'd do it again and again. However many times someone decided to pull a gun on Rufus Shinra, you'd put yourself in front of it. It was the job. Of course, if Reno had been the one on the podium instead of Tseng and had jumped in front, they'd have to find someone new for his job. Both he and Rufus were close to the same height, and that bullet would've gone straight through his head. Just the thought that his life could end so soon sent chills down Reno's spine. He knew he was going to die young, but not _this _young.

The elevator had finally slowed to a stop, and Reno had stepped off, heading for his tiny office. Tseng got the big office, but he got more paperwork to go along with it. Tiny office meant you weren't in there a lot, if you were a Turk. You got to do the field work. Reno felt sorry for the people that worked in cubicles. He would've gone crazy working in such a confined space.

Kicking his office door closed, Reno set the boxes on the floor, opening the lid of the top one. He didn't even bother suppressing a groan at all the data inside.

"This is going to take _forever._" He whined to no one inparticular, pulling out the first tape. In the back of his mind he could hear Tseng, '_less whining, more working'_.

"Yeah, yeah, let's get this show on the road. Did any of you camera people get anything interesting _besides_ the President nearly getting a bullet between the eyes?" He hoped someone was wise enough to have pointed their camera at the rafter. It was probably a futile wish though – the action was all up front, and everyone was dying to get a reaction from the President. He does cold and calculated so well, but does he show fear?

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Once it hit the news, all the channels were breaking out with more footage of the attempted assassination. What angered Tseng the most was that all the footage was either of his reaction or Rufus' reaction split seconds after the shot was fired. No one had ever thought to point their cameras to the rafters.

It had been hours since the conference, and still no new information had been submitted. Gomez was still going over security tapes from within the Center. Rude had some luck with the interrogation, but it was still ongoing. He had received a call from Reno a short while ago telling him what he didn't want to hear – nothing on the tapes was useful yet. He had said he still had two more boxes to go, but it didn't look good.

Tseng had been doing his own research, going through gangs within Midgar or any Shinra haters that had made enough of a statement to be put in the files. The search was unsuccessful though. Either everyone was dead or they didn't have the intelligence to carry out such an operation.

He gave an annoyed sigh, closing another file on his desk. It was no use. He hated having to admit it, but as of yet they had absolutely no lead, and no information of substance had passed by him. If he had to be thankful for one thing though, he knew he had a solid team working underneath him. Sooner or later some rock would be overturned and then they could act immediately. Right now though, it was a waiting game and he was slowly losing his patience.

The recovery report and doctor's certificate for Elena had been brought to him a little less than half and hour ago. She was in a bad way. She had been injected with some sort of chemical to make her lose consciousness, but she went down kicking. Her list of injuries only meant that she was going to be out of commission for at least a couple weeks. As soon as she gained consciousness he had a list of questions for her.

This day had to be one of the worst within his career. When the former President Shinra had been murdered he had felt like a failure, he wasn't about to have the same thing happen again.

Leaning back into his desk chair, Tseng picked up the remote, flicking to another news channel. It was the same old, same old. The camera had zoomed in enough to make out both his and Rufus' face at the time of impact. His raybands had fallen off when he had covered Rufus' body with his own, displaying his own reaction. Rufus' face had been smeared with his blood after the bullet had lodged itself in his shoulder, and his expression had been barely masked fear. If Rufus had seen the footage, which he most likely had by now, he would be angry with himself. The world now knew what could rattle the usually in-control man.

Tseng's face didn't depict anything more than pain, anger and concentration. He had enough training over the years in how to cover his reaction even when receiving damage. If he was afraid of pain or even giving his own life for his President, then this was not the career for him.

It was almost two hours before his Turks and Gomez were expected in his office, and Tseng was hoping on his end he would have something important to say by then. Rufus also expected a report detailing some sort of useful information on his desk by tomorrow morning, and Tseng wasn't sure if he would actually be able to provide anything. The whole situation was pressing him, making him angry, forcing him to concentrate on maintaining his cool exterior. Inside he felt like he was running in circles, tearing at his hair, frustrated by everything. He was an explosion just waiting to happen.

He looked through the information he had currently. Someone, or a group of people had managed to sneak into the building undetected. The grate in rafter A had been a point of entry, but not necessarily the only one. They had taken out a trained assassin in mere seconds. Elena may be a walking airhead, but she could pull it together on the job. Not only that, but they had given her serious injuries. They also managed to squeeze off a perfect shot at Rufus. The time frame this all happened in was so small, probably less than ten seconds. Tseng had been watching the rafters, he had seen Elena's blonde head pulled out of view by someone clad in black, and he had seen the rifle.

They also managed to get themselves out in record time. Immediately after the shooting Reno and Rude had been on high alert, along with countless SOLDIERs and Shinra guards. Even if the military hadn't been there, he had enough faith in both his Turks to get the job done, to be highly aware of everything. When it was damn serious, like today, they didn't miss a thing. They would've picked up on somebody suspicious, someone leaving the building in a way that they didn't want to get caught. His Turks were trained killers, observant, intelligent men – a lot of money and time had gone into training them just so. To have one or more potential killers just slip by unnoticed was unreal. To have them not notice- hell, for him to not notice either…warning bells were going off in his head. The hair on the back of his neck was standing on end. Something didn't feel right in his gut.

His job got all the more complicated. Not only was he managing all the investigations and keeping up on all the reports, as of tomorrow morning the President wasn't leaving his sights. He would wait until the meeting to voice his concerns, but the attack felt too clean, executed nearly perfectly. It felt like an inside job. If that was the case, tomorrow morning when he escorted the President to HQ, Rufus would be packing his necessary belongings and reporting to a safe house. His residence wasn't safe. If they could get into the Supreme Conference Center, with cameras and military and Turks around, nevermind the thousands of observers, breaking into his manor would be no sweat.

The only reassurance he had right now that the President was in good hands was that he had purposely handpicked the guards, knew the rotational cycles, and knew that even after telling Rufus to get some rest, the blonde man would not be sleeping. Rufus was an intelligent, calculating figure. He would be up in his office all night, trying to piece everything together, figuring out what his next move was going to be. Tomorrow morning he had interviews with six different news networks and he had to decide what to say. Nevermind the footage that was played over and over again on the television – Rufus would be up for another few hours just fuming over that. The mighty President of Shinra Inc showed blatant fear for only a few seconds, but now it was being shown repeatedly for the whole world to see.

To know that the news was exploiting Rufus' vulnerability angered Tseng as well. He had to add it to the list of things that were pissing him off today. He had known Rufus since he was a boy, and felt protective of him. These were not the images the world should be focusing on. If they wanted real, heart-wrenching news stories, they should bring their cameras and reporters to draw attention to more important things, like Gongaga, a small town still devastated by the explosion of a Mako Reactor. So many loved ones had been lost. That would be a better story than watching Rufus' blue eyes widen against a blood-splattered face.

Tseng rested his forehead in the palms of his hands, the stitches in his shoulder pulling uncomfortably. The doctors preferred letting his body heal itself rather than speed up his recovery with restore materia. While it might deliver immediate results, in the long run it would break down the body's ability to regenerate. It was a pain in the ass to be careful not to tear himself open, but the stitches would be out in two weeks. He'd be a free man then.

_God damnit, _the whole thing made him feel like he was teetering on the edge of a cliff. Usually finding suspects was a quick and painless job, he'd send Rude or Reno to eliminate the targets in time to go out for a beer with them later. There were times in his early career where he had been pushed to his physical limits, but he was responsible only for his own life. If he pulled something stupid, didn't pay attention and got shot because of it, it was his _only _his life. Now, if he fucked up, someone far more important than him got shot and he had to live with the weight of that, forever.

Tseng knew in time that if he continued running circles around these criminals, if they eluded his grasp and still made a strong effort to take out the President, he'd face a whole new level of anxiety. Until this case was closed, he would be working, working, working. Eating, sleeping – all that was secondary.

He remembered his mentor from his early years in Shinra. The man that taught him how to kill, manipulate, lead, react. Clearly the man had thought highly of Tseng, and also had been one of the few people on this earth who could read him so thoroughly. _"This man is a motherfucker,"_ he'd say, "_you think he's calm and collected always. Push him into a corner, or push him to his limits and he goes apeshit. Loses it. It's damn near scary. Killing with his bare hands, you should have seen the crazed look in his eye. You can't help but admire the power and the rawness there."_

It was a reality Tseng had worked to keep concealed. His Turks relied on him to be the coolly indifferent boss. A man who always knows the next step, who executes his business quietly and effectively. Rufus expected it of him, Heidegger, the former President…he didn't look or act like someone with a hot temper, no one thought him to be a walking time bomb.

If he got pushed though, if President Shinra came that close again, if whoever was responsible for today kept dancing off the radar…Tseng was bound to lose it sometime. He just hoped that this could be solved in the near future, so that he could spare that side. Sometimes he felt the same as the President, "_the less people know about you, the better."_

xxxxxxxxxxxx

Rufus was annoyed. . Aside from the day's shocking events, he was not looking forward to tomorrow. He intuitively knew that the phone on his desk had a million messages from hungry reporters, practically frothing at the mouth to be the first one to interview him. He also had no doubt that his personal secretary had calls lined up for him from reporters, business associates, and various organizations.

He had also seen the footage plastered all over the news. It made him feel ill. His horrified expression playing over and over again only served to humiliate him.

He had been _afraid_. And it was caught on film.

Everyone had seen his face. He was not the icy President with the silver tongue anymore. He had emotion, and now the whole world knew. His attackers knew they had shaken him up. Avalanche now knew what it took to put something other than a scowl or a smirk on his face.

He was no longer invincible.

The world now knew that Rufus Shinra, the most wealthy, powerful, and influential man on the planet was human. That he could be scared, that it was possible to rattle him, make him bleed and cry. And it disturbed him, greatly. It made him confront feelings he thought he had buried a long time ago.

His father had drilled it into his mind that emotion was a weakness. Weakness meant he would never hold a position of power, and he was useless without power. He had been trained by the late President to be quick on his feet, to assess everything with a cold eye, to divorce himself from his feelings. He never had a family life – his mother was a mouse and his father was that in name only.

These feelings were ones he had pushed away a long time ago, and to feel them bubbling forth – fear, stress, nervousness, insecurity – brought him back to being a child, beaten for crying. Ignored for days by his father. Trained to fit his father's ideal image. Robbed of his youth. And ultimately, experiencing these powerful sensations and having absolutely no idea what to do with them, how to react.

There was no one to talk to about this. Normal people knew what to do in the face of humiliation, of worrying. Rufus had been forced to ignore those things, to push them aside. Now they were out there, and the thought of that terrified him even more than getting shot at. He didn't know _what to do_.

Drinking seemed like a good idea. Get shitfaced, force himself to forget everything. That wasn't a solution though, just a temporary fix. It also would cause him more pain in the long run. He had to be up early tomorrow for his first interview, and going in with bloodshot eyes and sallow skin would not give the right impression at all. He had to look the way he usually did, feign boredom, confidence.

If his attackers were even mildly interested in him still, they'd watch the interviews. See if he had lost it. If he could conjure up his icy confidence, they might think he had a lead on them. That it was only a matter of time before they were in Shinra's hands, at the mercy of the Turks. Yes, give the impression that they had everything they needed to get the criminals by the end of the day.

Although his eyes burned, Rufus could not sleep. He had left the television on, using the news footage as incentive to get himself together. Tseng would arrive in the morning and he didn't want his most trusted Turk to see such a private side of him. Tseng might lose respect for the man he was willing to die for. After all, his late father had also led him to believe that "_respect comes from power, power is born from strength. There is no room for weakness. Emotions are weakness." _

Shutting off his desk light, Rufus moved over to the couch. It was more comfortable than his desk chair and it still allowed him to see the television screen. While his Turks stayed up all night gathering and examining evidence, Rufus aimed to push his weaknesses to the depths of his mind.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

Everyone had arrived on time. Tseng was pleased enough that everyone was taking this as seriously as he. Reno hadn't disappeared to a bar and come back buzzed. Rude hadn't either for that matter. Where one went the other was sure to follow. Gomez had been prompt, leaning against one wall, waiting for the meeting to officially start. Tseng leaned his elbows on his desk, regarding each occupant in his office.

"We don't know who these people are at all. They aren't part of any known gang in Midgar. I've done extensive checks within all the records. There's no information on a group who works this precise. I have a theory but I want to hear from all of you first. Reno?"

"All the cameramen are douchebags. Apparently getting the action on stage was more important than seeing who tried to kill the President. There was one piece of film that caught my attention though. Before the speech started the camera dude was just looking around, taking in the sights. At one point he had pointed his camera up at rafter A, probably checking out Elena or something. It's only a split second, I didn't catch it the first time, but after rewinding and pausing, I noticed something peculiar about one of the SOLDIERs up there. Very small build. More…curvy I guess? Cleavage wasn't all that obvious but I would say that person was a chick. And chicks aren't allowed in SOLDIER. She was in on it, and she managed to get a uniform."

Tseng filed this away as very bad news. You couldn't just walk in and get a SOLDIER uniform from anywhere. If there was one person masquerading as a SOLDIER, there had to be countless others. Yes, very bad news indeed, and lending more weight to his theory.

"I also noticed something strange within the interrogations." Rude offered. Tseng had his pen out, scribbling the last of his thoughts on Reno's report.

"Go on."

"We went through everyone on the roster for today. Many faces were missing though, even though there was a perfect body count and security check at the beginning of the day."

"So you're saying that these people showed up for work, then fell off the radar after that?" Tseng tried to clarify. Rude fussed with his raybands.

"In a way, though throughout the time at the Center the body count was perfect. The correct number of guards were there. I was talking to Gomez about this, we identified the missing people from the interrogation, but they are on the security tapes from the Conference, doing their job."

"Gomez, what did you find?" Tseng asked. Gomez laid a tape down on Tseng's desk.

"Something none of you were wanting to hear. I was watching these all day, something didn't feel right though. The guys that Rude said didn't show up – they were all monitoring the second floor hallway. Here I have them on camera. It shows regular activity, nothing new, but…the tape is looped."

Tseng raised an eyebrow, watching Gomez place the tape in his TV.

"To spare you the hours of watching it play out, I've fastforwarded it to the place of interest."

Turning on the television, everyone had gathered close to see what Gomez was talking about. It started up, the recording a dull gray, SOLDIERs standing along the hallway. Rude recognized them to be the people missing from interrogations today.

"Look at this guy here. He's holding his weapon like everyone else, but he is standing with his weight primarily on his left side. Now," everyone watched as the SOLDIER slowly shifted his weight onto his right side. "He's changed sides. Not so much a big deal. However," Gomez fastforwarded it a few minutes ahead, pressing play again.

"Watch this." The SOLDIER, weight resting on his right side, suddenly cut back to him favouring his left side.

"Aw fuck…" Reno pulled at his ponytail in frustration. Tseng felt his blood boil over.

"I only discovered this about twenty minutes before coming here. Not sure what you want to do with this information yet. To be able to loop a tape like that can only be done within the security room. The Supreme Conference Center boasts the latest in technology, so it would be next to impossible for a hacker to get into the security systems from outside."

"My theory," Tseng said. "Was that this was an inside job. With all the information each of you has gathered tonight proves it."

"What do we do now?" Rude asked. Tseng's mind was swimming, wondering what the next step was. Jesus, someone in Shinra? It could be more than one person. That thought was frightening.

"First we try and locate those missing SOLDIERs. Bring them in alive, if possible. Reno, Rude, that's your job. They could be the ones behind this. Or, the tape was looped because someone planned on taking them out. Reno, you said you saw a female SOLDIER? Someone could have taken the uniform off of one of them and given it to her. We need to find them and figure out what happened.

"Gomez, I want you to find out how many people knew the codes to the security room, and a record of who accessed it that day. I am going to move the President from his estate tomorrow."

"Moving him to a Shinra safehouse?" Reno asked. Tseng could tell from the tone of his voice that he felt it was a shitty idea, much like he did.

"Since someone in here is committing treason, I want to keep the President away from anything that has to do with Shinra when he's vulnerable, like on his off-duty hours. I will find a place for him to go where no one, except the people in this room, know where he is."

"That's for the best. The President can't be watching his back 24/7." Gomez muttered.

"This investigation is going to keep us moving for days. If you feel yourself getting tunnel vision, nauseous, light-headed from lack of sleep, and you will, trust me – you're entitled to combat sleeps. I can't have any of you passing out on the job. I need you to be sharp, effective."

"That goes for you too boss." Reno interjected. Tseng appreciated the small amount of concern from the younger Turk, but he knew he would be getting less rest than the both of them combined. Someone had to be around at all hours, holding this mission together. Not to mention watching Rufus' six.

"That's all, move out."_  
_


	4. Chapter 4

**Bullet Catchers**

**By Jazzbo22**

**Jazzbo22 hotmail . com**

An assassination attempt leaves Rufus questioning his vulnerability. The Turks struggle to keep the President out of harm's way, but is it enough?

TsengxRufus, RudexReno, yaoi, angst

A/N: Thank you for the lovely reviews! I'm glad you all like my story! Please let me know what you think, I love to read what you have to say. Enjoy!

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxChapter Four

This was not the usual start to Rufus' day. A typical day included an early morning caffeine shot followed by two aspirin, a pen, and lots of paperwork. Maybe if he was lucky he could get out of his office for awhile and attend some meetings. Today wasn't a usual day.

Rufus allowed the makeup to be dusted onto his face, knowing without it he would look ghastly on camera. Last night he had gotten no sleep whatsoever. The reporter probably chalked it up to stress, or – God help him, _fear_, but for him it was just a night of thinking. What was his next move, how was he going to play this out to make the company look better? Were his Turks going to have good news for him in the morning? The answer for that question had been a very solid _no_. He heard from Tseng his theory, backed up by strong evidence. The nervousness and stress within him started bubbling up again. No, he couldn't let it get the better of him, not right now. He had to save face.

Rufus tolerated all the fussing with a cool stare, the soundman clasping a microphone onto his jacket collar. The reporter was a young blonde woman, trying to look appealing to him, but he was not interested. All reporters were the same- they wanted to get the story, not caring whether or not how terribly you came across.

She had a sly, calculating look behind her eyes, something she tried to sweeten with her smile. He had dealt with her type before- she thought she could cut him down, but really it was the other way around. If she tried to back him into a corner, he would make sure she left the interview crying.

"Are you ready, Mr. President?" Her voice was just as sweet as her looks, and Rufus felt like gagging himself. He nodded in response as the cameraman positioned himself across his desk. Tseng was a solid, comforting presence beside him. He always attended interviews, whether he was asked to or not.

Looking up, Rufus could see that the monitor only captured the reporter – Jessica-what's-her-name, and himself. Tseng was not on camera. Probably for the best anyways. The normally handsome Wutaian was looking just a little worse for wear this morning – no doubt having gotten no sleep, and not planning to anytime in the near future.

With a three-two-one, the light on the camera went green, Jess-a-what's-it regarded him seriously. Oh, if she wanted to act this, he could meet her step for step. He was a veteran on camera.

"So tell me Mr. President, do you have anything to say about the assassination attempt?" Same old questions. He felt like he had already answered this one over many different phone interviews.

"Whoever was responsible for it will be found and dealt with accordingly." He wanted to cut the bull. Give them straight answers and suddenly they have nothing to talk about.

"Are you taking part in the investigation?" Well blondie, what do you think? Rufus raised a delicate eyebrow.

"I am overseeing all investigations. I am far to busy to participate in any field work, that's the Turks territory."

"I see. I suppose then that you have enough faith in three men to do the job for you? It's common knowledge that the Department of Administrative Research is not a big one. You can probably see our surprise in knowing you're not willing to utilize the entire SOLDIER program." Well, well. Someone actually read up on Shinra before coming here.

"This is a job for the Turks. As President I happen to work very closely with them. SOLDIERs are part of the Shinra Military. They are all over the world on their own assignments, equally as important as this one. I am not about to order them all home to do work that the Turks can do just fine on their own."

She made a show of leaning forward, attempting to see right into him. He had witnessed this approach before – the whole purpose was to make you uncomfortable, feel like you had to elaborate on what you just said. She wanted him to bear his soul.

"It's no secret that the footage of the attempted assassination has been overplayed on the television. Everyone on this earth has probably seen it now. I guess one of the questions we all have for you is this – were you afraid?" Well, he had expected this question, but for her to have to nerve to even bring it up made him want to spit at her.

"I don't know what you are talking about." She smiled uneasily, but regained her composure fast.

"When you were shot at, were you afraid?" Rufus had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. People were so stupid sometimes. He gave her the option to drop it. Now he would have to cut her down.

"You mean the invasion of privacy seen over and over again on the news channel? My face? Imagine this – you're making a speech for business owners and Mako consumers all over the world. Suddenly your bodyguard is in front of you, taking a shot from a _sniper rifle_ that would've gone straight through your head if he hadn't been paying attention. Add onto that getting a faceful of blood before being hauled away. I was surprised, as anyone else would be. Whoever was filming should have done something intelligent like point their camera towards the rafters instead of focusing on my facial expression. To specifically answer this intrusive question, _no_, I was not afraid. I was caught off guard as my Turk jumped in the way of the bullet." Rufus hated her.

Now she fiddled nervously with her skirt. She had probably anticipated him not having an answer, looking vulnerable as he tried to come up with an excuse. Rufus was on top of it though. No silly reporter was going to throw him off his game.

"Well," She shifted anxiously, clearly losing her train of thought. "Do you have any leads on the terrorists?" None of your business, bitch.

"We are still under investigation, but we have found some evidence." He knew he sounded confident and looked composed. He hoped it had made the terrorists nervous to see how calm he was about it, how he was in control.

She asked some more silly questions that earned roughly the same answers, thanking the President for his time.

"There you have it world, straight from the President's office. I'm Jennifer Walkins from Midgar News, here at Shinra Headquarters. Back to you, Jon." The recording button flashed red, indicating taping was done. Rufus' mic was removed, and Jennifer shook his hand one more time before gathering her things and making a hasty retreat. The tech crew was right behind her. Rufus knew he cut an imposing figure, but practically running away? That was funny.

Turning to Tseng, he realized it was probably not him they were trying to get away from. Tseng actually was frightening, all big bad Turk with the cold, unfeeling eyes and his menacing stance. Rufus couldn't have asked for anything more.

"I think after that Mr. President, you aren't going to be asked for interviews anytime soon."

"Good, I have enough to do." Tseng walked around Rufus' desk, seating himself directly across from him.

"Have you given any more thought to my suggestion?" Rufus sighed. It was a good plan, really, to have him not live at home for the next few weeks. It was true that if the terrorists could get into the Supreme Conference Center undetected, then breaking into his estate would be no sweat. Having Tseng around all the time wasn't the problem either, it was just….

"I can't be cooped up, looking afraid to stay where I am and stick up for myself. It can't seem like I'm running." Tseng regarded him with softer eyes. Unfeeling? Yeah, sure. Tseng knew what was going on in his head before he had even spoken in the first place.

"I wouldn't look at it as fear or running away. I would think it to be practical, the intelligent option. Especially since everyone knows where you live. I can't do my job when there are so many angles to cover. To have you stay in a safe place where no one knows where you are – that makes it easier for me all around to watch over you."

"You really think it has to come to that?"

"I really do." Tseng was dead serious. His expression held no argument.

"So you think staying with you is my best option." Tseng nodded.

"Apart from the rest of the Turks, you're the only one that knows my Midgar address. The Turks are a thorn in many peoples sides. It was imperative when this program was started that Turk information remain completely confidential, otherwise we'd probably be the first people taken out in our sleep – makes getting to you a whole hell of a lot easier."

That was true at least. The only address on Tseng's data was his Mideel summer home – though he hardly got to use it. The man was inbetween Junon and Midgar, accompanying him everywhere.

Reno and Rude had a box office number – that was it. At least, to everyone elses knowledge, except his own. Reno had a tiny apartment in the not-quite-ghetto neighbourhood just before the slums. A stone's throw from where he grew up. Rude was doing a little better – although he didn't reside in a wealthy neighbourhood, he had a decent flat on the upper plate. Same with Tseng for that matter.

"Well, I didn't bring anything with me to my office. I'll have to stop at my house to get all my necessities."

"That won't be a problem. Once we're done here for the day we can make a quick stop before heading to my place." Tseng's place. Rufus didn't think he had ever seen it. Judging from Tseng's mannerisms though, he supposed the head honcho of the Turks had an immaculate home.

"Well, we won't be leaving here for awhile. Not only do I have nine more interviews lined up, I have to get this stack here signed and sent off by the end of the day." Rufus said, motioning towards a paper tower of doom. Tseng just nodded. He was used to this by now.

"We'll leave whenever you're ready."

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"You think whoever did this is stationed in Midgar? Maybe they came in from another city." Reno spoke absently. They had already checked the Midgar SOLDIER base for the missing men. No surprise – they weren't there. After that they had gone to family and friends, trying to locate them. No surprise again – no one had a clue where they went.

"They probably are staying close. They won't be satisfied until Rufus is dead." Rude answered him. Right now it felt like they were chasing bread crumbs – no real trail, no clues to where they might have gone. It was frustrating.

"If I was a terrorist, I wouldn't run away. I would hide right under our noses, because it would be the last place we check."

"If it's the last place, why don't we make it the first?" Rude asked. Reno gave an annoyed tug on his ponytail.

"Because I don't know where to look, damnit! There's probably a million places where they could be that's technically _right under our noses._ The slums always attract the lowlifes, the upper plates have their own breed of wrong…Midgar is so big, they could hide anywhere in here and still slip by us."

"We found Avalanche." Reno sighed.

"They wanted to be found. This is different. These guys come out of the woodwork only when it suits them. Unfortunately they come out right when they're close to killing the President. Next time will most likely be a close call as well."

That was enough to silence both Turks. The atmosphere was heavy enough knowing their boss took the hit. He wouldn't be able to do that too many more times – for all they knew, the terrorists could be after Tseng next. Get rid of the wall and then you have the President. They couldn't let it come to that.

"Well, I don't know how to be useful right now. Do you?"

"No."

"We're probably going to have to take a different angle with this, eh Rude?"

"Yes."

"For instance, and I don't know how reliable they are, but Shinra used to have feelers out in the slums. That's how I got recruited for the Turks. I was their eyes when they couldn't do all the work themselves. I know there's a list somewhere in HQ of active feelers. We should ask about it."

"Yes."

"Okay," Reno rolled his eyes. "I'll ask, Mr. Antisocial." He pulled out his PHS, connecting to Tseng.

"Any news?"

"None so far chief." He didn't need to be in his office to know that Tseng was disappointed. It had its own way of leaking through the phone. "But, I just had a brilliant idea. There's no way Rude an' I will be able to dig up all of Midgar and still be looking for the rats that come out of hiding, so we were thinking about using the feelers."

"The ones from the slums?" Reno nodded. Useless, since Tseng wasn't there beside him. Oh well. At least it helped Rude to know what was going on.

"You had some on the top plates too right?"

"Yes. We haven't used those for awhile. You're going to have to confirm that they are still working or alive. We haven't had to use them for quite some time."

"That's no problem Tseng. Better chasing them around then trying to find a needle in a haystack."

"Yes. I'll have lists of feelers on both of your desks by 1400."

"K. I'm out." Reno closed his PHS, pocketing it. Rude was looking at him, well…just blankly. Reno knew him well enough to know he was expecting him to elaborate.

"Lists will be on our desks at 1400. Then we go hunt them down and scare the shit out of them so they do what we say."

"Sounds good."

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The lists Tseng had provided were out of date, to say the least. Rude guessed that they hadn't been called on in a long time. Halfway through the first page, and already ten were dead or MIA. Three were currently good to go. He had crackled his knuckles and very seriously stated that lack of cooperation would result in balls being torn off. Obviously he made a strong impression, because all three were quick to pledge their unfailing allegiance to Shinra. Good on them.

Reno sat beside him in the Mercedes now. He had driven all morning, and now it was Rude's turn to take over. They were both working on no sleep since yesterday morning, and it was already starting to show. Reno needed coffee every hour. While that wasn't too much of a stretch from normality, now the redhead was taking it with three shots of espresso. Rude didn't know how he stomached it.

"One more page to go." Reno spoke, the file in his hands. Rude glanced over at him. They were both tired, Reno looking slightly more rumpled than usual. He'd probably start looking worse and worse as the week wore on, if that were even possible.

Pulling up beside one of the many Midgar bars, Rude put the car in park.

"Guess we'll just ask the bartender if he's seen this guy around." Reno said, holding up a very unflattering mug shot. The guy's name was actually Falcon. Poor kid.

"Guess so."

Reno sighed, leaning back into the headrest and closing his eyes.

"Need a quick nap?"

"No, I'm good. Just need to close my eyes for a minute." So, a quick nap then. A minute was never actually a minute with Reno. Just like when he says he'll be in at work soon, he means within the hour. The guy worked on his own clock, unless Tseng was exercising his tight fist. You didn't mess around when Tseng meant business.

Rude decided to take advantage of the quiet moment as well, letting his hands drop from the steering wheel into his lap. Within the next couple hours he was going to have to take a decent nap, his body was working on limited reserves. He didn't know how Reno could just fall asleep in a carseat, but he probably had slept in far more uncomfortable places before joining Shinra. He didn't know that much about his partner, but he knew where he came from.

Rude turned to him, watching as he dozed lightly. For all that Reno was – a poor kid from the slums turned professional killer, possessing a foul mouth but yet a keen sense of intelligence – he didn't look at all like it as he slept. Rude would never compare his looks to a woman, though he did have some delicate features. Didn't make him look all that tough here – a slightly upturned nose, high cheekbones, large nearly turquoise eyes framed by long lashes, and a mouth more suitable for kissing than swearing. Whoa, where did _that_ come from?

Rude tore his eyes away, willing himself not to think of Reno's entirely too kissable mouth and slim white throat. A throat he found himself wanting to mark. These were not the things he should be thinking about. Reno was his longtime partner, his friend – but sometimes he thought about him _that way,_ and it always caught him off guard.

He had never had any sort of relationship with a man beyond friendship. It never occurred or interested him. Reno was a different case though. He got to him in ways no one else ever could, and sometimes it was unnerving. He always knew what he was thinking, what he was going to say – the telepathy happened almost instantaneously once they became partners. That's why Rude always let him handle the talking – Reno already knew what he was going to say. No use wasting any breath.

As for everything else…Reno was appealing to him in a way he didn't quite understand himself. Sure, they were close enough. He didn't know too much about Reno's background pre-Shinra, and vice versa. He did know how Reno operated on the field, how they had grown close over the years, what Reno was like in pain, and how willing he was to guard his back even injured. Reno was always curious about him – he had no problem asking questions, wanting to get the latest dirt. Reno loved the gossip, '_who do you like?', 'if you could fuck anyone, who would it be?'_. Too many times Rude wanted to answer truthfully - 'you'. Instead he mumbled some bullshit about not knowing and being too busy for all that.

He was snapped out of his thoughts when he noticed Reno was starting directly at him.

"What's so funny?" He asked. Rude shrugged.

"What do you mean?"

"You've got this huge dumbass grin on your face, and I want to know why. C'mon, was I drooling or something?" More like Rude was drooling. He coughed, adjusting his raybands.

"Maybe I'll tell you after this mission is done and we can drink again." Reno rolled his eyes.

"I know man. No alcohol, no fooling around, _no sleep._ It's getting rough."

"It's our job."

"I know," Reno grinned. "And I wouldn't change a damn thing."

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	5. Chapter 5

**Bullet Catchers**

**By Jazzbo22**

**Jazzbo22 hotmail . com**

An assassination attempt leaves Rufus questioning his vulnerability. The Turks struggle to keep the President out of harm's way, but is it enough?

TsengxRufus, RudexReno, yaoi, angst

A/N: Thank you for all the reviews, alerts, favourites! It means a whole lot to me, and inspires me! Things will get cookin' soon, just you wait. I promise I'll make the wait worth it ;). Anyways, as always, please review, let me know what you think. Thanks for reading!

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Chapter Five

By the end of the day, Rufus was considerably exhausted. While the interviews weren't tiring or challenging, they had dragged on. Halfway through the sixth he realized he was operating completely on autopilot, the same answers to the same damn questions spilling out like he had rehearsed it. During the interviews Tseng had been a menacing presence beside him, and inbetween he was either on the phone with his Turks or Gomez, or going over his own paperwork. No doubt he was on top of everyone's part in the investigation. In fact, for all the years Rufus had known him, he had never seen him take an extended break, or even just a little time for himself. With the way he was so dedicated to his work, Tseng probably could recite the reports, word for word. He was an incredible Turk. His father had gotten something right at least when he had chosen Tseng.

After the interviews had finished Rufus had realized that the paper pile of death still awaited him. Needless to say, it had been another few hours of office hell before that job was finished.

He would have to do it all over again tomorrow.

While working though, he did get to hear some interesting things from Tseng's side of the phone. It was a little humourous to watch him as he dealt with each of his subordinates. Just by Tseng's facial reactions alone he could tell which person he was speaking to.

"Would you just…okay…no, don't do that. Don't make me…fine. Okay. Give me an update in an hour." All the while he was rubbing his temple, sighing exasperatingly. That's Reno for you. Rude couldn't be more different. Tseng was a picture of calm and coolness when he talked to him. He looked like his usual self on the job.

"Excellent…perfect…send that to my PHS. Yes…it's up to you. Call me if you discover anything." And Gomez, well, you could tell they went way back.

"Okay, sounds great. Come up and see me later…oh, sure, call anytime…yes, just let me know what works for you." A ghost of a smile played on his lips even after he had hung up the phone.

Eventually Rufus had placed his documents in the right bin for his secretary to sort through tomorrow. It had been a long day, and he was looking forward to resting a bit. They had stopped briefly at his mansion so he could gather his things, and now were on their way to Tseng's apartment.

"How is your shoulder doing?" Rufus asked.

"It's fine. Doesn't hurt much."

"I gather it's not the first time you've been shot?" He didn't know for sure. Right now he was fishing for new information from his personal Turk. Tseng was an interesting figure, and he felt the need to know more about the Wutaian.

"Been shot at plenty of times."

"But you haven't always been lucky."

"No," Tseng replied. "I haven't. I've been lucky enough to dodge the majority of shots taken at me though, bullets and otherwise."

Rufus pondered Tseng's form of answer. He was being elusive. It was intriguing, and frustrating at the same time. He knew Tseng's penchant for maintaining, or at least looking like he maintained a perfect record, but surely this man couldn't be on the mark all the time? And what with not giving him a straight answer? It wasn't like he was going to run around Shinra HQ, spreading the word.

"Have you ever felt you were stuck in a no-win situation?" Rufus wondered outloud. Tseng gave him a brief look – for the life of him he couldn't tell what was behind the older man's eyes. Too much meaning – or maybe too little.

"Everyday." The answer surprised Rufus. He scoffed – it was the first reaction that came to him.

"Tseng, really. I read your file when I was appointed President. All the field work you've done, especially since becoming leader of the Turks is impeccable. You're the man to get the job finished – which means you win a whole hell of a lot."

"Not right now." Tseng answered truthfully. Rufus raised an eyebrow.

"Not right now? What do you mean?" After a long pause, Tseng finally answered.

"We don't have the advantage over these criminals that want you dead. I'm not losing faith, I still intend work at this as hard as I can, but we're at a standstill. I don't want to alarm you, you are safe right now…we're just in a frustrating process of putting pieces of a puzzle together." Rufus understood.

"Maybe you need to rest for a while, regroup, then get back to work." Tseng shook his head.

"I can't rest yet. There are too many things going through my mind that keep me up."

"You're going to burn yourself out."

"Not yet." Tseng glanced at him again. He looked…dangerous. "I've been worse than this. Staying up a little while isn't going to kill me." Rufus didn't want to point out that they were both running on the same minimal sleep, and he was definitely feeling the effects. That would make him look…weak.

They had pulled up to a sharp looking apartment complex. Figures Tseng would be living in one of the classiest buildings in Midgar. He had parked in the underground garage, exiting the car and walking over to assist Rufus. After locking the vehicle, they made their way over to the elevator, Tseng carrying Rufus' bag for him. Rufus would have protested – he wasn't the one with the injured shoulder – but he had learned a long time ago that this was Tseng's manner. Same with opening the car door for him – it's what Tseng does.

The elevator slowed to a stop on the twelfth floor, Tseng stepping out and scanning the hallway before nodding to Rufus. He followed the silent Turk all the way to the end of the hall, stopping outside door 1220. Tseng pulled the key from his pocket, unlocking the deadbolt and holding the door for Rufus to enter first. Following behind him, Tseng locked all three locks before turning on the lights. He was right about Tseng's style. The man was sophisticated. And clean.

Rufus would have guessed that he would stay to a dark palette in his home décor – Tseng just struck him that way. His glossy black hair, the dark suit, his somewhat pale skin – doesn't exactly strike you as a Red! Gold! Violet! Green! person. But he was, and it was nice. The living room was what first grabbed Rufus' attention when he walked in. Tseng had colourful Wutaian tapestries hanging on the walls, embroided in the aforementioned colours. His furniture was black leather, the carpet white, and the walls red. The coffee tables and tv stand were a rich oak. The floor lamps were gold in colour.

Even though it was colourful, and quite homely, it still gave off masculine vibes. The samurai sword mounted on the wall, and the tapestries – upon closer inspection seemed to tell a story of a Wutaian warrior. Tseng didn't have any pictures of family or friends, or even significant others anywhere in the living room. Not that he found it too strange – he was raised in a household where pictures were clutter. His father didn't want that crap around…his mother might've, but she never stood up for herself.

"I'll give you the mini-tour." Tseng offered, taking Rufus' jacket and placing it in the front closet. Rufus followed him left into the next room. It brought them to a kitchen with a small attached dining room. The counters were a dark marble, the walls still red, with hard wood floors. The dining room table was also sleek and black. Tseng had Wutaian paintings on all four walls.

"Down here is the washroom and bedrooms." Left there was a hallway, with one bathroom and two bedrooms. Tseng stood in the doorway to one of the bedrooms.

"This is yours." Tseng placed Rufus' case at the foot of the bed. Rufus had wondered why Tseng didn't outfit his house with traditional Wutaian furniture, but it looked like he had saved it for the bedrooms. Or at least, for his anyways. Tseng's door was closed.

The futon sat low to the ground, the comforter a deep, appealing shade of violet. It went well with the red walls. Tseng had a few Wutai mementos hanging on the walls, lantern lights, as well as bamboo shades for the window.

"If you need me at all, my room is right across from yours. Help yourself to anything in the kitchen."

"Make myself at home?" Rufus anticipated what Tseng was going to say next. The Turk just smiled.

"That too. I know this situation isn't ideal, but it's what has to happen. Because of the secrecy going on right now, I have to ask you not to set foot out of this apartment unless I am accompanying you. From now on you're going to have to wear a hat or something concealing your face when you're coming and going, so no one tips you off for living here."

Not what Rufus wanted to hear, but he'd rather that then someone busting into Tseng's place deep in the night and shooting him in his sleep. Tseng was a competent, intelligent, dangerous man – if he told him to wear a mask, he'd wear it.

"Anyways, I'll leave you to get some sleep. See you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow." Rufus answered, watching Tseng close his door. He was exhausted, aching for the need to rest awhile.

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Tseng had waited until Rufus's bedroom light went out before resuming his work. He had picked up the old files of the feelers while at HQ, surprised at how few were still working. Rude had filled him in on the deceased, the out of commission and the still useful ones. Right now he was running background checks on them. In the past they had been a valuable resource for Shinra – they tended to do a good job when paid enough. None of them had ever walked away from the job, so he wasn't worried about turncoats.

The Falcon kid had some inconsistencies in his report, Tseng chalking that up to youth. He was also relatively new when he was first hired, so by now he should've sharpened up. Tseng expected it, especially after having a talking to with both his Turks. That would be enough to keep anyone on the straight and narrow.

Placing his file to the side, Tseng reviewed what he had so far. Gomez had been calling him with regular updates – seems from a steady analysis of the video, there were a few unrecognizable faces. Gomez had counted six. That meant whoever was behind this was at least a team of that number. The faces were blurry though – all Gomez had discovered was that they were not the SOLDIERs supposed to be on duty. They hadn't matched the faces to any names yet. They weren't active Shinra employees though, that was for sure.

It was good and disappointing news for Tseng. Good, because they were starting to narrow their search down. Bad, because it still meant they had to find the person working for the company that was putting on a convincing charade. He had considered interrogating everyone in the building, but that would be too time consuming. It would also leave Rufus vulnerable, giving his attackers a prime opportunity to attack again. No, this mission had to be done covertly.

Tseng rubbed at his eyes. The lack of sleep was starting to get to him. He needed to rest, as much as he tried to refuse or fight it. The strain in his body was starting to take form as a painful throb in his shoulder. Taking painkillers had been at the back of his mind all day, and now he was paying for it. The fresh wound was definitely making itself known.

He popped two of the tiny white pills, following it with a cool sip of water. He was working from his bedroom, lest the light from the kitchen sneak under Rufus' door and disturb his sleep. He had a small desk right next to his futon, but it wasn't nearly as comfortable or spacious as the one he had at HQ.

Skimming through the files once more, he felt like he was missing something. Just a nagging feeling in the back of his mind, but enough to convince him to stay up longer. One more read-through, and then he was going to lie down for an hour or so.

No, nothing really stood out. Reno and Rude were waiting for their feelers. Gomez was seeing about those unnamed SOLDIERs. Elena was still unconscious in the hospital, and Rufus was sound asleep in his guest room. He couldn't say who was going against Shinra just yet – he had been paying attention while at the building but nothing struck him as peculiar. Maybe he would find what he thought was missing later.

After an hour long nap. That's all he needed.

Climbing under his futon comforter, he set his watch alarm to go off in an hour. Then he would check in with his men, see if they had dug up anything that would be of interest to him.

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It was four am in the city of Midgar, and while everyone was tucked in their beds, or asleep on the slum sidewalks, Reno and Rude were pulling out of a twenty-four hour drive-thru, coffee in hand.

Tseng had called a little less than two hours ago, checking in with them. All Rude had to report was that Falcon had some activity going on – he had seen some suspicious figures wanting to make a cash for weapons trade. Not so much of a big deal in the slums, but they trusted Falcon would know the difference between usual weapons carrying slum dwellers and someone who was capable of taking out the President. Falcon seemed convinced that these guys were the real deal, so he was keeping an eye out. Rude and Reno would jump into action when it was confirmed they were to be taken seriously. For now though, it was still a waiting game.

"My eyes feel like they have sand in them, I'm so tired." Reno whined to his partner. While they had been sent on missions where they suffered lack of sleep for up to seventy-two hours, it was never something they got used to. Rude nodded, suppressing a yawn.

"This can be over tomorrow if Falcon or any of the others tip us off on good info." Rude grunted out from behind his hand. The last nap they had taken was around six hours ago. Reno wanted another one, and he was sure Rude felt the same way. However, if their boss was up and working hard, then they should be too.

"Hey, why don't you tell me a story to keep me awake?" Reno said, turning to regard his partner. Rude frowned.

"What the hell would you want to hear?" Reno pondered this. What the hell did he want to know about Rude? He had worked with him forever. Seemed like he knew everything already, except…

"What was life for you like pre-Shinra? Did you have any family?" He had heard from Tseng that Rude was recruited into the Turks from a fight Tseng had witnessed. Apparently he was more than pleased with the bald man's combat skills and saw to it that he was trained for the Turks immediately.

Rude was quiet, so much so that Reno thought he had ignored his question and was hoping it would be forgotten in the silence. Not that Reno really expected an answer – neither of them had ever gotten into detail over what life was like before they had been recruited. Rude finally cleared his throat, staring out the front windshield.

"I came from a dysfunctional family." He started. Reno watched him, watched for any facial expressions giving away what Rude was truly feeling. There was nothing yet. "My father was a violent drunk, took it out on my mom a lot. She was strong though, she took it so we didn't have to." We. Reno didn't know there was a 'we'. He always imagined Rude as an only child.

"As the years dragged on, my father got more and more aggressive every night he came home pissed. When I got older he'd sometimes beat my mom down, then come after me next." Rude was frowning, his eyebrows drawn together. "Sometimes it was bad. I wanted him to hit me though, instead of my mother or my younger brother. It helped as I got older I started getting bigger. I fought a lot at school, out on the streets, so I learned what worked and what didn't. Eventually my dad stopped beating me down, when it was obvious I could beat the shit out of him. Left our family alone. He had gotten into some trouble though and was eventually killed in a bar fight."

Reno hadn't expected Rude to have such a tragic past. Sure, he thought he had it rough sometimes – you wouldn't be in the Turks if your life had been peachy, but this was just…really, really wrong. He didn't want Rude to have such a bitter upbringing. Rude deserved a whole lot more.

"We were better off without him, started having a normal life. Things were good for a few years, but then my brother had gotten drunk with a couple friends and decided that running off into the ocean was a good idea. He drowned." Rude's face was a carefully controlled mask. Reno was sure if he had pulled off his shades, there would be a completely different story behind his eyes.

"After that, there wasn't a prayer for normalcy. My mother was always doped up on anti-depressants, just so she could live day to day. I started working as some sort of a mercenary, running jobs for local crime lords. After a drug trade went wrong, it busted out into a huge fight." Rude cracked his knuckles. "And then Tseng saved me from myself. So, now you know my background story. Is it what you thought?"

"What happened to your mom?" Reno found himself asking. Rude let a small sigh escape.

"Overdose, just before I was recruited."

Reno didn't even know what to say. Nothing seemed adequate.

"I'm sorry." It was the two most lame words in the world, but nothing else seemed better. Rude shook his head.

"It's all done now. I've moved on. It's what I had to do." Reno understood that. He had moved on from his past as well – he couldn't carry it on his shoulders for the rest of his life.

"Thanks for sharing with me man." Reno said, honestly meaning it. Rude seemed to feel his sincerity, because he finally looked at him. Reno wanted to reach up, pull off his shades, see what was really going on.

"Should have told you a happier story." Reno grinned.

"No, I wanted to know this one. I'm glad you're here now, and not in some alleyway."

"Yeah, I guess it worked out in some twisted way."

The Mercedes was filled with comfortable silence. For some strange reason, after Rude had opened up to him, Reno felt all the more closer to the larger man. Someday, if Rude asked, he would tell his story as well. Then they'd be one for one.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Rufus had awoken in a tangled fit. He had been dreaming about gun-wielding monsters chasing him down never-ending alleys. It had repeated itself several times, and in each version, they had splattered Tseng's brains all over the walls before coming after him.

Too disturbed to fall back asleep, Rufus climbed out of bed, stretching his sore muscles. Opening his bedroom door, he wasn't the least bit surprised to see the light in Tseng's room still on. It had to be close to six am now.

Stepping out into the hallway, he knocked on the Turk's door.

"Come in." Tseng's voice called from inside. Rufus opened the door, seeing Tseng sitting cross legged in the middle of his bed. Rufus stepped in, closing the door behind him. Somewhere in the night Tseng had pulled his sleek mane into a ponytail. Oddly enough, it looked good on him.

"Couldn't sleep?" Tseng asked, placing all his files to the side. Rufus took that as an invitation to come sit with him. He crawled onto his futon, coming to sit across from him. Tseng was giving him his probing look – where everyone else was met with Rufus' icy glare, Tseng could see right through him, into him. Rufus couldn't scare him away like the others. Instead, his coal eyes cut into Rufus and seemed to delve into hidden places. He felt incredibly vulnerable in front of him.

"I was having nightmares."

"Because you are stressed. Maybe you should…"

"Take some time off? You know I can't." Tseng nodded. He did know that. Now more than ever Rufus needed to keep up appearances.

"My body isn't taking kindly to lack of sleep. I feel it everywhere, in my eyes, my mind, my body even aches." What the hell. Rufus decided to save Tseng the aggravation of sifting through his head and just come clean with his problems. Tseng nodded though.

"When you're not used to the heightened stress combined with the lack of sleep, it can do strange things to your mind and body. Very few people can control themselves when pushed to those extremes. I had to when I was first being trained. It's uncomfortable to say the least." Tseng says uncomfortable, like it's all an inconvenience. To Rufus it was so much more than that. If it continued, he was going to go crazy.

"Sometimes concentrating on your energy sources puts you in a restful state." Tseng offered. Rufus stared at him blankly. It must be a Wutaian thing.

"Like this." Tseng leaned over, taking his hand in his own. He applied firm pressure to Rufus' palm with his thumbs, pulling up through his fingers then moving down to his wrist.

"If you focus on your muscles and the energy flowing through you, then this can relax you enough to get a decent sleep." Tseng moved the pressure up from his wrist to his elbow. Rufus was trying to concentrate, but this – _this _was distracting.

"As you concentrate on your energy, you will feel your body expelling the negative flow. Sometimes this can be a very emotional experience." Tseng had moved onto his shoulders, neck, and down the other arm. Rufus was starting to feel what he was talking about – his body was releasing the stress, relaxing into his touch. His mind was also relaxing – he was starting to come apart slowly.

Tseng was close to him as he worked on his other arm, Rufus able to smell him. It was appealing, whatever his cologne was. It had faded from the day into the night, but it was still there. Faint, but still on his skin. Up close, Rufus could get a good look at him. Tseng wasn't looking at his face thankfully, or he would've seen Rufus studying him very intently. Tseng was a handsome man, it was hard to believe he wasn't taken. His features were very regal, from his pale skin, striking jet black hair and eyes, long patrician nose and lips that were full enough to be enticing, but not womanly.

He had a strong face and a strong body. His Turk uniform did much to hide his muscular frame, but here, where he was dressed in sweats and a tee, he was clearly built like a warrior. Broad shoulders, narrow waist – Rufus dragged his eyes away. He was embarrassed by himself.

These were the ultimate weaknesses he had tried to hide. His mother had discovered him early on in his youth, and made him ashamed to be what he was – gay. She had seen him watching the guards, the SOLDIERs, the Turks….and told him that he was disgusting, that what he was wasn't acceptable, and if his father ever found out – he would be shit out of luck for a job at Shinra, for even living with them most likely. So he had pushed himself away, bundled his repressed being into a neat little package to be shipped to the back of his mind forever. Instead, this cold, unfeeling, bastard of a man came out to take control. It was the way he was going to be for the rest of his life, but now…all these things were coming back, slowly but surely, and he didn't know what to do, how to deal with all of it.

If anyone saw him as he truly was… they'd lose respect for him. Tseng wouldn't want to work for him anymore, he would think his life so little that it wasn't worth protecting. Rufus was terrified, and he couldn't even show that.

"Rufus, are you okay?" Tseng had taken his hands away some time ago. Rufus had been staring into space, no doubt his face reflecting his inner turmoil. Turning his attention back, he was surprised to be gazing into warm, dark eyes. It would be nothing to close the gap between them. Rufus nearly jolted. That was something he had to keep to himself, _forever._

"I'm fine. That worked better than I thought. I'm exhausted." Rufus made to stand, but not before Tseng lay a strong hand on his shoulder.

"You know you can talk to me. Don't let all of this get to you. If you need to unload, do it. I'd be there." Rufus wanted to tell him that the way he needed him was not the way Tseng intended. Standing up, he walked towards the door.

"Wake me up in two hours?" Tseng nodded, concern still playing over his features. Rufus closed the door, walking over to his room. He doubted he would get much sleep. Though Tseng's touch was relaxing, it had woken something within him as well. Something he definitely didn't want to pay attention to.

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	6. Chapter 6

**Bullet Catchers**

**By Jazzbo22**

**Jazzbo22 hotmail . com**

An assassination attempt leaves Rufus questioning his vulnerability. The Turks struggle to keep the President out of harm's way, but is it enough?

TsengxRufus, RudexReno, yaoi, angst

A/N: Wow guys! I am so pleased you are liking this so far! Already I have received stunning reviews and FANART and I can't tell you how happy it makes me that you are enjoying this so much. Hopefully sometime in the near future I can make a blog or something where I can showcase your work as well as my own! It's great! As always, reviews are mucho appreciated! Thanks for everything! :D

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**Chapter Six**

"You look like shit." Tseng turned, glaring tiredly into the eyes of Randolph Gomez. Upon realizing who it was, he dropped the icy glare.

"Good morning to you too."

"You know," Randolph smiled. "You are allowed to sleep. No one set any rules about you becoming the walking dead. Why don't you go home for awhile, get some rest? I can watch over here." Tseng shook his head.

"I won't pretend I'm not tired, at least in front of you. I can't leave though, not with Rufus here." Randolph sighed.

"I don't want to have to be dragging your ass to ICU when you are healthy enough to be here. You don't sleep, you die. Simple as that. I've been in your place before, during many missions actually, and I can tell you this – no matter how strong or determined you are, you won't last forever. You _will_ crash, my friend. It is only a matter of time."

"Yes, I know that- "

"And I know you wouldn't want to have that happen with Reno, Rude, and most importantly, President Rufus counting on you. I can hold my own, but those guys – you are their shining idol, the protector, a perfect Turk. Don't ruin the image with your ego. They would lose faith if you suddenly collapsed into a nervous breakdown."

Tseng knew he was right. He wouldn't even bother arguing. The day had just started though- there was no way he'd be leaving to sleep. However, Rufus looked pretty bagged as well. It probably wouldn't be too hard to convince him to leave before eight pm.

"I'll catch some shuteye later in the day. For now, let's get to work." Randolph gave him a knowing look. 'Later in the day' meant 'maybe I will, maybe I won't' in Tseng speak.

"Okay, I'll let you know what I find. Talk to you later." Randolph saluted him casually before returning to his office. Tseng took the elevator to the sixty-ninth floor, stepping off and taking the stairs to Rufus' office.

The secretary buzzed him in without even checking with Rufus. Tseng was in there so much that she had been ordered to let him through anytime he wished. He slipped quietly into the President's office, shutting the door behind him. Rufus was on the phone, and from the sounds of it, working out a new business deal. When Rufus saw that Tseng had entered his office and was coming towards the desk, he made quick work of getting rid of the person on the other side of the line.

"Absolutely. Just fax it to Shinra Inc with my name and your company name in the subject line and my secretary will have it on my desk. Alright." He hung up the phone, flicking a persistent blonde strand out of his eye.

"I'm getting pissed off being asked all the time if I am 'alright'. If I am 'scared'. If everyone got to work instead of harassing me, we'd have a much more effective world."

Tseng could understand Rufus' frustration. This really wasn't what he wanted the public focusing on, especially since he has worked hard to carve out this icy, threatening image. Problem was, it was such good gossip about the most powerful, influential man on the planet that it didn't seem it would pass anytime soon. As for the truth about Rufus? Tseng knew it. He _was _afraid. The sleepless nights, the growing agitation, his constant need to know how the investigation was progressing, and his willingness to go along with whatever Tseng said. He was a man who was scared for his life, not just from death but the potential political damage. Tseng wouldn't let him get hurt either way. Over his dead body, if it came to that.

"Just continue doing what you do, and eventually they will catch on that you aren't letting it affect you." Tseng offered. Rufus seemed satisfied with that, turning his attention away from Tseng and towards his computer.

"Any word?" He asked, typing away. Tseng wasn't fooled. He had Rufus' complete attention.

"Falcon, our sector three feeler, thinks he has found something interesting. Rude and Reno are investigating, and will call as soon as anything new comes up."

"Hmm."

Tseng sat in comfortable silence for awhile, listening to Rufus type away. Quiet was dangerous though, because he found himself starting to doze lightly. When Rufus started yawning every few minutes, he decided to speak.

"Perhaps we should call in early today." He suggested. Rufus stopped typing, regarding him.

"Why do you say- " Rufus paused to cover a yawn.

"That?" Tseng raised an eyebrow.

"After that, do I really need to elaborate?" Rufus smirked, placing his chin in his palm.

"Might be good to get out a little earlier today. I'm not sleeping too well, and you're not sleeping _at all._"

"What's on the agenda for today then?" Tseng asked. Rufus pulled out his pocketbook.

"Staff meeting at noon. Nothing really happening there – Scarlet and Heidegger are probably just going to ask for more funding. After that…doesn't seem like it's all that busy. I can take my reports with me."

"Why don't we leave shortly after your staff meeting then? No use contributing to your stress levels by staying here when you can get away for awhile. It's imperative that you are well rested – it'll look good in the public's eye as well." Though Tseng didn't want to resort to manipulation, upon studying Rufus closer he noted that the President was probably getting as little sleep as he. If he collapsed, the whole world would be on top of it. Not what he wanted to have happen.

"Yes, we could do that. I suppose I could take all this with me." Rufus said, eyeing the deceptively low pile of reports.

Tseng's PHS rang. He pulled it out of his blazer, flicking it open and placing it to his ear. Hopefully this time he would receive some good news.

"Hey Tseng baby." Reno's voice sounded tired, but noticeably more lively then when they had last talked.

"What is it?" Tseng asked, too tired to even bother berating Reno for not addressing him properly. Kids these days.

"Falcon found them. At least, he thinks he has. Seems legit though – they aren't trading for usual run of the mill weapons. And get this – they have _floor plans_ to Shinra HQ. Got your interest now?" Yes, this was all very, very good.

"Go on."

"Falcon has managed to get himself a spot in the meeting. Guess he has a reputation around here for selling some interesting gun parts in the past. Anyways, they are willing to hearing him out. Meeting will commence later in the day. I will be intercepting, Rude will act as backup if need be."

"I suppose you two have some sort of a plan?" Tseng inquired. He could practically see Reno's grin over the phone.

"Yes Chief. We aren't spring chicklits. Falcon is going to sell them a damn good story of me being a Shinra deserter, wanting in on the action. We rehearsed already. Even I was convinced." Tseng sighed.

"I hope you're right. If you need me out there at all, call. I want this in the bag."

"Yes boss. Out." Tseng pocketed his phone. Rufus was watching him.

"They might have them. Rude and Reno are going to see to it." Rufus rubbed at his eyes with the palms of his hands.

"I _need_ this done." Tseng pinched the bridge of his nose. Damn persistent headaches. He needed to sleep.

"I do too."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"What to you think? Exciting or nerve-wracking?" Reno found himself asking. Rude chewed it over.

"Exciting."

"When this is all over, whatcha gonna do to celebrate?"

"Drink, sleep."

"Then drink some more?"

"Yeah, maybe."

"I could really use a beer." Reno sighed, placing his feet up on the dashboard.

"I actually have a pretty decent bottle of cognac at home."

"What? When did you get that?"

"From that time I saved your sorry ass and nearly got shot as payment." Rude smiled. "Tseng rewarded me for my efforts."

"So when you say 'pretty decent', you mean Tseng dropped a shitload of gil on you."

"…yeah."

"Well, do I get to partake in drinking this cognac?" Rude smiled again. He had to stop that – it was doing weird things to Reno's belly. Slow, warm somersaults. The man was a weapon in and of himself. Probably didn't even realize what a handsome devil he was – sometimes he was pretty thickheaded. Maybe Reno would tell him after the mission was over, while they were relaxing and sipping cognac, at Rude's house, where he could possibly get a taste of other, more delicious things…

"If you'd like. I'd say that we earned it after this mission is over."

"No shit eh. It could all end today." Reno would be glad when the whole ordeal was through. Being stuck in a car all day, forced to take naps in cramped spaces – his ass had gone numb a long time ago. It didn't help that Rude was with him twenty-four seven – a few times he had considered fulfilling his fantasies by crawling into his lap and letting instinct take over – it would certainly make the hours pass in a more pleasurable way. It wasn't the right time though, it was important to be on alert always. Reno could think about seducing him later.

"You going to be okay going into that meeting?" Rude asked. Reno slouched in his seat.

"Yeah, it'll be good. I know you're all worried about my cute little ass getting in trouble. Don't." Was Rude…blushing? That was too funny.

"Anyways, no offense, but you don't look like someone who would desert Shinra. Too spick and span. Me though – look at me. I'm so disheveled, they'd probably think I lost respect for the company a long time ago. I'm definitely more convincing." Rude knew it to be true.

"Why don't we lie down for awhile? Falcon will call us half an hour before the meeting starts with the location. There's nothing we can really do right now."

"If you say so." Rude reclined his seat, folding his arms over his chest. Oh yes, Reno was going to be very glad when this mission was over. Rude looked tasty - he wanted to unwrap his perfect Turk partner in ways the bald man couldn't even imagine.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"So as you can see from the budget outline, this project wouldn't cost too much from Shinra."

"We'd make it all back anyways, with how effective the Proud Clod would be in battle." Scarlet and Heidegger were indeed selling him a new weapons project. Did they ever stop?

"You weren't satisfied with the development of the mako cannon?" Rufus asked. Scarlet shook her head.

"No, no, that's not it at all! We just feel that a weapon able to engage in melee combat would be very useful to the military."

"I thought the SOLDIER program was developed for such things."

"SOLDIERs die. Machines just need to be repaired." Scarlet had such a delicate way of putting things. Rufus flipped his hair back. Damn bangs- he needed a haircut.

"Submit the full outline to me. Not just the budget. I want to know exactly what this thing can do, all the parts, estimated time of development – and I will make a decision on how useful it'll be to Shinra."

"Yes Sir." Heidegger and Scarlet answered simultaneously.

"If that is all, I will be going now."

"One more thing, Mr. President." Heidegger stopped him. Rufus shot him a hard glare, the fat man taking a step back from the intensity of it. Good, he could still scare.

"What is it?"

"Well, the SOLDIERs have reported to me that you haven't been at your home recently. We were all wondering where you have relocated – it's not safe for you to be out, except at your home. Optimum security has been placed there."

"Yes, Mr. President. We are concerned for you." Reeve also commented.

"I am staying somewhere else." Rufus answered.

"The security around you has to be top-notch, we don't want anyone getting through it." Rufus appreciated Reeve's questioning look. The man had always been a good, hardworking, intelligent Shinra employee.

"You don't have to worry about the security where I'm staying. I guarantee you it is the best I've had since this whole fiasco started."

"Will you at least let us know? We can send more SOLDIERs, more guards – the more the better." Heidegger offered. Rufus picked up his coffee.

"If that is everything for the meeting, I'll be heading out now." He walked away, Tseng following him silently.

He headed back to his office, ignoring his secretary who was reminding him of the phone calls he had to return to all the newspapers and magazines. The press wanted new information, and until they got it, they would be insistent. Rufus was tempted to erase all the messages, but if he wanted to maintain his positive image with the public, he had to remain cordial, or the closest thing to it.

"I'm thinking that leaving right now would be best." Rufus whispered to Tseng. He didn't want his secretary overhearing. Tseng nodded, waiting outside his office while Rufus gathered his documents.

It was only a few minutes before he was ready to go, but upon stepping out of his office, he knew something had transpired with Tseng.

"What is it?" Rufus asked. Tseng pulled him close, leaning down to speak quietly to him. God, he was so close, Rufus could feel the warm off of him, and his breath on his ear – it was stirring that unwanted feeling within his body again.

"The meeting has commenced. Turks are in action. It's all going down." Rufus pulled away to look Tseng right in the eyes.

"What happens now?"

"We get you back to the safe location." Meaning Tseng's place. "Until they have finished, just in case something doesn't go as planned." Rufus nodded. It was time to get the hell out of there.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Something…something wasn't right. Reno was a skilled professional – he might not be able to write a decent report without a dictionary, but he was highly effective on the field. He had learned to pilot a helicopter in a little more than a _week_ – and it was one, if not the hardest vehicles to operate. So what was taking so long?

Rude had been staked out in the Mercedes for close to twenty minutes. In his opinion, Reno should've been in and out. The warning bells were going off in his head. Fuck this. He was going to find him. Something had gone wrong.

Silently exiting the Mercedes, Rude walked to the back of the bar, where the meeting was taking place. If Reno was in trouble, it wouldn't do him any good to walk into the front entrance, in the same uniform. Being caught wouldn't make Reno free. It would make them both dead.

There was a grimy window at the back. Rude pulled himself up so he could see through without being spotted. Reno was in the back room with a handful of other men. He didn't look like he was in immediate danger. They were just talking. Rude thought about returning to his car until he noticed a man was approaching Reno from behind. The redhead was obviously distracted by the conversation.

Even worse, the man was brandishing a vicious looking knife. He had seen those before, in his younger, rougher days. It was the kind of blade that could easily sever…a fucking _spinal cord._ Perfect decapitation device. Rude willed him to turn around, to see the man behind him. It wasn't working. He couldn't watch it end like this- not to Reno.

He did the only thing that came to his mind – bust through the window like a bad ass and take that mother fucker _down_. The men were all surprised, shocked into stupidity as Rude made his dramatic entrance. It really was cinematic. Steve Seagal would be _sooo _pleased. He dropped the man with the blade to the floor in a crumpled pile before they had even gathered their wits. Reno had seen what he had done – he threw Rude a grateful look before turning and catching the fist aimed for his nose.

The room was definitely alive now. Rude stayed close to his partner, beating his way through the men. They were strong though – Rude had a helluva time keeping up with them.

Someone had managed to punch Reno right in the gut. He doubled over, winded. His attacker kicked him square in the side of the head, throwing the smaller Turk to the floor.

"Reno!" Rude shouted over the grunts and yells, trying his best to make his way over to his partner. He noticed the numbers were dwindling- there were more in this room, right? – and just missed the canister flying towards his head. Before he could register what it was, it exploded into a blinding light, rendering him as effective as a newborn kitten. Fucking flashbombs.

As his vision was clearing he immediately noticed only he and Reno now occupied the room. Then he heard the faint cry of, 'fire in the hole!', before something very obviously metal hit the ground. Without thinking, Rude threw Reno over his shoulder and attempted to get out of there as fast as possible. He kicked open the door and only made it a few feet outside before the ground shook with the force of the explosion. It wasn't a large blast radius by any means, but Rude hadn't exactly made it far with Reno on his back.

The force of the blast, coupled with the flying debris knocked Rude off his feet, sending Reno hurtling a few feet away. They were engulfed by the heat of the explosion, the smoke suffocating and searing their skin.

Rude lay on the ground, trying to gather his bearings. When he tried to stand, his left leg gave out. On closer inspection he realized he must've been hit with debris in the back of his calf. It was bleeding steadily and – yeah, there were _metal shards_ still in there. Any movement was extremely painful.

Flipping onto his stomach, he used his elbows to crawl over to Reno. The redhead wasn't moving at all, and his hair, it looked darker, like…

"Oh shit, _oh shit_!" The pain from his leg was pushed aside as he headed towards Reno. He was lying so still…please let him be breathing…

He had a bad gash on his forehead. It was bleeding profusely. His clothes were singed from the explosion – being on Rude's back meant he had experienced the brunt of it. He was burned through his clothes – not fatal, but enough to make his skin red and angry.

Rude was worried about the gash on his head, and the very real possibility of broken bones. What if he had broken ribs and they had punctured his internal organs, and he was bleeding to death this very moment? Rude could feel himself getting hysterical. Trying to remain calm, he covered Reno's forehead with his hand, maintaining firm pressure as he pulled out his PHS. Reno needed medical assistance immediately.

"I have a man down from an explosion in the sector three slums…"

xxxxxxxxxxxx

Rufus could tell whatever Tseng was being informed of wasn't good. In fact, he had never seen him go this dark, this frightening before. The vein in his forehead was actually very prominent. This was not calm, collected Tseng. This was a man who was seething, who probably could rip off his head or tear out his heart if he wanted to.

"I want them in a private hospital wing, with SOLDIERs stationed _everywhere!_ I want there to be absolutely no _fucking_ possibility of them coming in to finish the job. …don't tell me you can't fucking do it, don't tell me you'll _try_! …you want me to come down there? …no, you definitely don't! Don't call me unless it's a status update!" Tseng was terrifying. He looked like he was about to go on a killing rampage – he was glad to be on his good side.

"Something went really wrong." Tseng finally spoke after taking several calming breaths. He was still flushed with anger. Rufus decided to wait until he was ready to speak.

"The meeting went horribly wrong. Reno and Rude were injured from a grenade explosion. Both are in stable condition, though Reno suffered a lot of blood loss. I'm still waiting to hear from either of them. Reno was unconscious when he was taken in, Rude was going into shock." Tseng slammed his fist on the coffee table.

"God _damnit_!" Things just got a lot more complicated.

"They are close then." Rufus decided to speak. Tseng answered him with a nod.

"What should I do?" Rufus asked. Tseng massaged his shoulder – no doubt his wound was aggravating him.

"Stay here for now. They don't know where you are – you aren't in any danger."

"Tseng, you should sleep for awhile. They'll call with the updates. As soon as Reno or Rude can, you know they'll get their hands on a phone. There's not much you can do right now with so little information." Tseng was looking worse and worse as the hours progressed on. The bags under his eyes were dark now, his features drawn tight. Rufus hoped this latest bit of information wouldn't keep him up longer – Tseng looked like he was starting to fall apart. Slowly, but surely. He had stopped to talk with Gomez in the halls, the older man expressing concern over Tseng's state. Up until then Rufus had thought him to be a steady worker – he was human though, and humans required a few necessary things to survive. Tseng was lacking in the sleep, food, and drink compartments. It needed to be fixed immediately, or else Tseng would fall apart.


	7. Chapter 7

**Bullet Catchers**

**By Jazzbo22**

**Jazzbo22 **

An assassination attempt leaves Rufus questioning his vulnerability. The Turks struggle to keep the President out of harm's way, but is it enough?

TsengxRufus, RudexReno, yaoi, angst, lemon, anal, oral

A/N: So, just so we're all clear on this, there is sex in this chapter. Yummy, hot, sweaty s.e.x. Which is why I initially set the rating to M, which is NC-17. I'm not about get anal on ya (har, har, har) if you chose to read this, but please note that the rating has been set with all of this in mind, and the warning of M/M lemon was marked on the story description. I would just hate to be banned after lovingly writing this.

As always, I am loving the reviews. Very honoured that you would drop me a line. It makes the writing process so much more enjoyable knowing that you guys are out there eating this up. Glad it tastes pretty guuurd!

Well, this chapter is very heavily RudexReno, but don't worry! TsengxRufus will get getting their air time shortly.

*Please DON'T read any further if you are offended by two men loving each other, from here on in I am not responsible for what you do!

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Chapter Seven

Rude had a hard time fighting off the doctors and nurses. All he wanted was to see if Reno was okay, but damnit, they kept them in different rooms while they attended to each Turk.

"Sir, _hold still._ We can't clean out your wound if you keep fussing." He thought of his nurse as the 'frigid bitch'. She didn't tell him anything, wouldn't let him move, all he needed was to see Reno…

"Sir. If you don't lie still, we _will_ strap you down." Rude did stop when he realized she was dead serious. Although he might be able to break out of his confines, it would take more time, and that was time he had to spend away from his partner. Complying, he lay there, flinching as they dug each metal shard out of his calf. He was anesthetized, but it didn't diminish the pain completely.

Once he had listened to orders, the doctor and his team of nurses were able to work quite quickly. Soon he could leave, see what was going on with Reno's injuries…

"Okay, we're just going to suture this up. As well as breaking the skin, the metal had torn some of your muscles so they will have to be stitched as well. You can walk after, so long as you don't put any undue stress on your leg." Whatever, just do it. Rude was growing more impatient by the second.

After ten minutes of quiet work, the doctor gave him the good to go, placing several medical documents in his hand.

"These are instructions on how to clean your wound, acceptable activity, as well as a notice for a follow-up appointment in two weeks, when we remove the stitches. _Please_ be careful next time? We don't want to be pulling metal shards out of your skull."

"Where is Reno?" The doctor looked at him quizzically.

"Oh, the other patient brought in with you? I believe he's in room 104, though – hey wait! You can't just barge in!" Rude was already out the door and scanning the hallway for the room. The doctor's cries fell on deaf ears.

Finally he located room 104, opening the door and stepping in quietly. A young nurse was leaning over Reno's bed, checking his IV. She hadn't heard him come in, jumping when he was suddenly beside her.

"_Jesus Christ!_ Don't scare me like that, or you'll put me in a hospital bed too!"

"How is he?" Recognizing the uniform, she decided not to argue. He meant business. Picking up Reno's file, she handed it to him.

"He's lucky his skull isn't crushed. Bad wound, lots of blood loss, as to be expected with head injuries. He'll be a little disoriented. Mild concussion."

"What about other internal injuries?" Rude asked, scanning the file. She checked Reno's vitals.

"Three broken ribs. No damage to internal organs. Torn back muscles, though not severely. Wretched his left shoulder, but no lasting damage there either. Just heavy bruising. Safe to say he'll feel like a truck ran over him when he wakes up."

"So he is okay then?"

"For the most part. Whatever you guys were doing – he won't be able to return to that for awhile. He's going to have to take a few days off work to recuperate, and then return to _light work. _No Rambo impressions." Rude raised an eyebrow. Rambo impressions?

"You too you know. For your wounds to heal you need to take a few days off work."

"That isn't possible."

"Well you're going to have to make it possible." Was she for real? "There's nothing more annoying then getting the same people coming back every week because they don't follow doctor's orders."

"When is he going to be discharged?" The nurse took the file back from Rude, sifting through the pages.

"In about four days, give or take. We need to see what happens with his head and ribs. Better safe then sorry." Tseng was not going to like this.

"Well…I'll just leave you two then…press the nurse call button if you need anything." She slunk out of the room, pulling the door shut behind her. Rude limped over to the seat beside Reno's bed, pulling it under him.

"What the hell are you doing, getting yourself hurt like that?" Rude brushed the hair out of his face tenderly. Reno stirred under his touch. Without thinking, he let his fingers trace his cheekbones, down towards his jaw. His partner's eyes fluttered before opening slowly. Rude pulled his hand away, hoping he wasn't caught – it was always embarrassing seen with your hand in the cookie jar. Reno gave him a pathetic grin.

"Did we already start drinking? Because I have a _motherfucker _of a headache." Rude smiled.

"How are you feeling?"

"Like I got run over by a _fucking huge ass mother fucking fat ass_ of a chocobo." Rude raised an eyebrow.

"The nurse said you'd feel along those terms." Reno reached for his forehead, the feel of a thick bandage under his fingers startling him into reality.

"Oh shit! The meeting! Those assholes!"

"They're gone now." Rude spoke softly. Reno looked devastated.

"We were so close to putting this in the bag."

"You remember anything? The nurse said you'd be disoriented." Reno nodded.

"I remember up until you pulled me out of there…and then there was an explosion…"

"And everything went black?"

"Pretty much." Reno sighed. Rude knew he was probably kicking himself.

"What went wrong?"

"I think Falcon sold us out. He wasn't even there. These guys though…I'm pretty sure it was _them_. Everything about them felt like pure skill, pure evil too."

"Do you remember any faces?"

"Yeah. Some are strangely familiar, I can't place them though. I'll have to think about it. It was bugging me the entire time I was there." Rude hadn't really paid attention to faces when he had broken in. He was all about saving Reno's ass, for the umpteenth time. As if sensing what was on Rude's thoughts, Reno turned to him.

"Thanks man, for busting in there like a mofo and saving me from becoming the headless horseman."

"It's what I do." After a moment's silence, the redhead spoke.

"How long am I in here for?"

"About four days."

"Fuck _no!_ I'm not staying here!"

"You have to. You broke three ribs, and busted your head up pretty bad. They want you to stay here so they can monitor you."

"You know I can't stay here. We have so much work to do. I won't be on the field, I promise! I can figure out who those guys were. I can't do that in here! Rude, sneak me out!"

"They need to look after you."

"No. I already know what they're going to do. I'll make them use a cure 2 on me."

"They won't- "

"Watch me."

Reno rang the nurse buzzer. Rude was skeptical. They didn't like to use cure materia, as it slowed down the body's natural process of healing. Reno seemed convinced they would do it though. Rude had a pretty solid idea that it would involve throwing a shitstorm.

"This is how it's done…"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Both Reno and Rude were limping out of the hospital within two hours of arriving there. Enough blackmailing and swearing seemed to have the effect he wanted, because by the time he was finished the staff wanted him out of there. They cast a cure on him – enough to mend his broken ribs, but not enough to close the gash on his head or take away any of the pain. Tseng had been called and updated on the information, and had given Reno access to all the Shinra personnel files. All he had to do was get on his laptop, and do some face surfing. All from home, where he could relax into a proper chair in a room not nearly as confined as Rude's car. Ah, bliss.

Rude was coming along with him as well, as much as the bigger man protested. He wanted to be out finding the shitheads, but Reno had told him pointblank that limp-a-lot wasn't about to cover much ground when he could be getting more work done in his apartment.

Of course, there were two sides to every story. Back in the hospital, Reno had felt Rude caressing his face, keeping his eyes closed to save his partner any embarrassment. The 'play dumb' act was going to be dropped very soon though – he couldn't wait. This mission was dragging out longer than he thought, and damn, if he died he at least wanted to die a satisfied man. From the way Rude had touched him, he was sure something along the same thoughts were running through his mind too. If he had his way, by nightfall Rude would be all sweating and naked and begging for more. Or he would. Either way worked.

After talking with Tseng, their leader advised them to keep working, but get some decent sleep in there as well. It seemed as the days went on they were losing their sharp edge from lack of everything. Judging by Tseng's voice, he hoped he was taking his own advice.

"Tseng told me how to locate the Shinra database from home, so why don't we chill there, shower, order some pizza and get to work?" Rude glanced at him. Tseng had ordered their car be dropped off to the hospital, and now Rude was driving.

"You want us to go back to your pigsty of a place? Reno, I was there right before this mission started. Have you even put away those boxes yet?"

"Ahh, point. Okay, let's go to your place." Rude just shrugged, taking the highway to the top plates. Reno had been at his partner's condo plenty of times. It was pretty nice – two floors, all manly man furniture in rich colours, like mauve, brown, copper, and tan. And he had a nice, big, comfy bed. All big checkmarks in his book.

"I can order the food while you shower, and while I'm showering you can get to work on finding those faces." Rude offered. Reno grinned.

"Not about to argue with that."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"How are things?" Rufus asked. Tseng put his PHS on the coffeetable.

"Both Reno and Rude were released from the hospital. Neither are really fit for active duty. At least they have something to do from home, Reno might be onto something really important."

"It works out then. There's no way, especially after being discovered by us that the terrorists are going to come out anytime soon."

"For their sake, I hope not." Tseng snarled. He had his temper under check now, but he was still bristling with anger.

"What happened to the leak?" Rufus asked. Tseng pushed his ebony hair from his face.

"Falcon has been captured by a handful of SOLDIERs. Gomez is leading the interrogation. I don't think he'll live through it." Rufus just nodded. It was a grave mistake to not only go against Shinra, but to injure Turks as well. Falcon would be sorry.

"Tseng, go sleep. Nothing is going to happen here. You gave Reno and Rude the go ahead to get some decent shuteye. You can do the same as well. Look, I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere. You don't have to worry about anything." Tseng nodded, his face grim. For once Rufus would like to hear him say, "Sure. I'll get some rest, no problem". He couldn't very well order him to, even though he felt like it.

"I'll go for an hour or so."

"Perfect. I could use an hour too." Rufus said, heading towards his bedroom. He was pleased to hear Tseng following him.

When they reached their respective bedrooms, Tseng stopped, turning to face him.

"Because Reno and Rude were injured, they are going to be off of heavy field work for a week or more. That is, unless an emergency arises. In the meantime, if there is anything that needs to get done, I'm going to have to be the one to do it."

"Is that going to be a big problem?" Tseng pondered this.

"It shouldn't be, so long as you stay here. No one, with the exception of Gomez, Reno or Rude knows where you are. It just means you have to be really careful, not step outside or answer the door."

"It'll be fine Tseng. I won't do anything that'll get me caught." Tseng sighed.

"I don't know if I'll have field work yet, I guess it all depends on what Reno finds."

"Let's hope he finds something worthwhile then. Well, lets get some sleep before he decides to call and tell us he's solved the whole case." Tseng spared him a ghost of a smile before closing his door. Rufus followed suit, feeling his heart roll over warmly. Tseng was driving him insane, and he had no idea what to do about it. If the Wutaian only knew the torture he was going through, battling his desires and his insecurities. Either he'd be intrigued or think he was a freak.

Pushing it to the back of his mind for the time being, Rufus concentrated on getting some rest. One hour was not a long time, certainly not enough for all the mental and emotional gymnastics he was going through.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Reno was lounging comfortably on Rude's tan sofa, relaxing into the fluffy cushions. This was the life. Much better than the stiff leather interior of the Mercedes. Rude was in the shower, having gone second to him. It was much better being clean. Any longer and he would've smelled like he was raised on a barn.

The pizza had arrived shortly ago, Reno digging into it eagerly while scanning the Shinra personnel database. How many people work, or worked for Shinra who were between the ages of twenty to forty five? Quite a few. This would take awhile.

He heard the shower turn off, and could imagine Rude stepping out, completely soaked, driplets trickling down his hard planes of muscle. He was in much better shape than Reno could ever hope to be – he was a trained hand to hand combat fighter, it was his specialty. He had to have the muscles to go along with it, muscles that Reno was currently salivating over. He had to hold himself back from getting up and walking into the washroom, no matter how tempting it was. Right now Rude had to eat, and Reno had to get some headway on this new branch of investigating. Maybe later he would think about his pleasure, especially if it was being so distracting.

He heard the bathroom door open, Rude emerging, all glistening and hunkilicious and perfect. All he was wearing was a towel, something Reno wanted to desperately remedy. Even the shades were gone – it was rare when he chose to go without them, Reno only seeing them off a couple times. He had forgotten that Rude's eyes were a light shade of brown, with honey flecks decorating around the pupil. Eyes that anyone could get lost in. Eyes that he wanted to make roll back into his head with pure pleasure. Oookay. It might be hard to concentrate, especially since Rude had taken a seat beside him, in that scrap of a towel. He reached for a slice of pizza, leaning over to see Reno's computer screen. He smelled so good.

"Any luck?"

"None at all." Reno said, distracting himself with the screen. "I just started though, so there's many faces to go through." Rude nodded, polishing off his slice.

"This could take all evening." He remarked. He was sitting so close, Reno could feel his body heat. And he was only wearing a towel, and he knew that he wanted him as well – what the hell was he _waiting _for? This was a joke really – whoever was watching him from above was clearly setting up this situation to cause as much temptation as possible. Reno talked with his angel and devil.

'Rip off the towel and go at it like bunnies!' Reno-devil cackled.

'Tseng's working hard- you should be too' Reno-angel tried to convince him.

'He's not going to get anything done when he can see his package' Reno-devil stabbed Reno-angel with his pitchfork. Suddenly Reno-angel grew horns and a tail, becoming an identical devil twin.

'Go for it!' They cried in unison. Well, how could he argue with that?

He set his laptop on the coffee table, sitting back into the couch, facing his partner. Rude had moved away slightly, though he was still in arms reach.

"Is everything okay?" He asked. Reno had to suppress a grin. This had to be set up just so.

"I'm just a little tired right now, ribs kinda hurt. There's other things on my mind distracting me." Rude opened his mouth to ask, Reno taking this as his window of opportunity. Closing the distance between them, he spared no expense. He thought he might do this hurriedly, fancied crushing their lips together, but instead he just enveloped him, kissing Rude deeply, thoroughly. The bald Turk was definitely surprised – Reno felt him tense up, his jaw go slack – and doubled his efforts, pressing his body up against hard muscles. Rude began responding to him, swiping his tongue against Reno's lips, slipping inside to battle with his own.

Reno's hands traveled up his thick neck, fingers brushing the stubble on his head before cupping the back of his skull. Rude's hands had found Reno's waist, pulling him even closer, to the point where Reno was practically straddling his partner's waist.

They were soul kissing, groping at each other's bodies until oxygen became a necessity. Reluctantly, Reno untangled his tongue, pulling away. He saw passion, lust, pure want in Rude's eyes, coupled up with a whole lotta confusion.

"I don't know what to say…" He finally admitted, trying to fit pieces of this puzzle together. Poor Rude. Sometimes he thinks too damn much.

"You can just say you want me, like I know you do." As if to emphasize his point, Reno's hand traveled down, grasping Rude's semi-hardness through the towel. Rude bucked, groaning quietly.

"The investigation…"

"Will still be here when we're done. Are you going to tell me that you'll walk away from this and get back to work, _and _keep your concentration?" Rude was silent. Yeah, he thought so.

Leaning over, he kissed Rude again, just as thoroughly as the first time. Exploring his mouth, he found new ways to make him groan. Hell, if he had figured out that kissing his partner could be this pleasurable, he would've done it years ago.

Reno ran his hands over strong shoulders, clasping over huge biceps, tight pecs, and apparently –

"Ahh…."

Super sensitive nipples. Rude, you silly boy. He was going to be a shaking, sweaty mess when Reno was through. He pinched and rolled his nipples between his fingers briefly before letting his hands travel down defined abs, coming in contact with the thin trail of hair sneaking a path below the towel…

"Bedroom." Rude growled, grabbing Reno's hands and crushing their lips together. He wasn't about to argue. He lifted off the couch, Rude grasping onto him firmly, leading them both down to Rude's bedroom. And that huge, comfortable bed.

They stumbled in, Reno pushing Rude to lie down. He complied eagerly, watching as Reno pulled away, ripping his shirt over his head and tossing it to the ground. His body wasn't as ripped as his partner's, but he knew he was in good shape, and must look it too judging by Rude's expression. Coming over to the bed, he straddled Rude, intent on exploring the path he had earlier carved out with his hands – this time with his mouth. He kissed and licked down his neck, nipping lightly at the jut of his collarbone. Rude groaned, reaching for his shoulders and massaging lightly. God, that felt good.

He moved lower, his tongue flicking a dark nipple, fully anticipating Rude jolting underneath him.

"Fuck…" He breathed, the sound encouraging Reno to continue. He tortured one nipple by licking, sucking, nibbling – drawing interesting and erotic sounds from the strong man underneath him. Satisfied with the taut nub, he moved onto the other side, repeating the same actions as before.

Rude was covered in a light sheen of sweat already, Reno grinning as he traced the outline of his abs with his tongue. And he hadn't even reached the good part yet…

Moving even farther down, Reno ran his hands up and inside Rude's thighs, teasing the skin hiding under the edge of the towel. He was kneeling on the floor now, inbetween Rude's thighs while the upper half of Rude's body was on the mattress.

"Reno…" He moaned, leaning up on his elbows to watch. Hey, even better if he wanted a show. Reno gave him his most seductive grin, letting his hands roam under the towel and slide up Rude's impressive length. He moaned again, the sound sending Reno's blood pumping faster.

Deciding the towel was now a hindrance, he pulled it roughly away, throwing it over his shoulder. Rude inhaled sharply, no doubt loving Reno's aggressive side. He always knew the bald man liked the feisty ones. Up until recently he didn't know that Rude liked _his _feistiness.

Licking his lips, he looked at what eagerly awaited him. Well Rude, who knew you were hiding _this_? The tip was already weeping, showing just how excited he was. Knowing Rude's eyes were on him, Reno looked up just as he was taking the head into his mouth. He sucked, flicking his tongue over the tip, still maintaining eye contact. Rude's mouth hung open, his eyes half-lidded, and he groaned loudly as Reno continued swallowing more of him.

Reno broke eye contact so he could concentrate more on the task at hand. Grasping the base firmly with his hand, he swallowed as much as he could, lips forming a tight suction around Rude's shaft. He pulled up, his tongue licking and stroking the underside before pushing back down, knowing the heat and wetness of his mouth was driving his partner insane.

He bobbed his head in a steady rhythm, his hand alternating between stroking where his mouth had vacated or cupping and rolling his heavy sac. Rude was emitting a steady stream of heated growls and groans, his hips moving involuntarily to Reno's tempo.

"God, Reno…!" He pulled away, knowing Rude was close. It wasn't time yet – there were other things he wanted to do first.

Coming to his feet, he pushed his boxers down and off his body, feeling his stiffness spring free. He was also dripping – thanks to all the arousing sounds Rude had been making. He crawled onto the bed, kissing Rude, pushing his tongue past willing lips, dueling with the man under him. They were pressed together – Reno growling as their hips rocked together.

"Do…you….have lube?" He managed to get out, knowing that he was close to just impaling himself on Rude's erection.

"Top drawer in nightstand." Reno squirmed off, pulling open the drawer hastily, feeling around for the tube. When he had found it, he took it out, popping open the cap. Rude watched him as he squeezed a generous amount into his hand, slicking up Rude's hardness first. He moaned, hips pushing forward into the tight, slick tunnel Reno's fist created.

Reno withdrew his hand, grumbling when Rude took the tube away from him.

"Hey, I still need to- "

"Shush." Rude coated his fingers with the substance, reaching up and under Reno, searching for his entrance. Finding it, he pushed his index through his tightness. Reno moaned, pushing himself down until he reached Rude's knuckle, letting himself adjust enough to accept another finger. In time Rude granted him that, slipping in another and scissoring the two.

Reno spread his legs further, welcoming the intrusion. It had been awhile since he had been with a man – since there had been a man he wanted to be with, and his body was slowly remembering what to do.

"Give me a third." Reno growled, feeling Rude comply. He patiently allowed himself to stretched, knowing that Rude was taking his time out of concern, but _come on_ already – he knew what he wanted, and he wanted it now.

Reno lifted off of Rude's fingers, settling on something much bigger, and much more fulfilling. Gazing lustfully at Rude, he watched his facial expression as he slowly lowered himself.

"Oh fucking hell…" Rude grunted, grasping Reno's hips firmly. The urge to thrust up must be tempting, but he was being good, allowing Reno control. Once he was fully seated, Reno paused a moment to let himself get used to the intrusion. Rude was a big man, his size just on the edge of Reno's comfort level.

When he was confident that he had accepted Rude's length, he lifted up until only the tip remained in him, then slammed down, rocking his hips. Rude's hands alternated between their bruising grip on his hips, and grasping at his thighs. Seemed he didn't quite know what to do.

"So tight…"

It occurred to Reno that this might have been his partner's first time with another man. Grinning, knowing how hot and slick he was around his hardness, he could imagine he felt better than any woman ever could.

Reno kept a steady rhythm, feeling Rude's hips thrust up to meet his own. Leaning forward slightly, he knew if he got the angle just right, Rude would hit…

"Ahh!" That magic button inside of him that made him see stars. Rude knew he had struck paydirt, so he kept up the rhythm, thrusting harder, hitting Reno's prostate repeatedly. Now Reno was the sweaty, moaning mess, trying desperately to brace himself above Rude while his body sang with pleasure.

"Oh, Shiva's tits!" Reno cried, grasping the comforter in his fists, seeing Rude watch him intently as he kept hitting that, kept driving him crazy with need. Rude looked incredibly sexy, his body sweating lightly with excursion, his beautiful honey-brown eyes clouded with desire and pleasure, his lips parted slightly….

Reno kissed him passionately, trying to convey with his mouth exactly what the rest of his body was feeling. Rude kissed him back with equal fervor, driving deeper into him if that were possible, sending him soaring to new heights.

The end was near. Reno knew it, Rude knew it. Reno kept kissing him, whispering,

"God, faster, _harder…_" Rude obeying his pleading, thrusting with such force that Reno was sure he would die of ecstasy. When he hit his prostate again, Reno knew this was the beginning of the end. Tensing, he felt the rush flow through his whole body, gathering in his belly and loins, finding its way to his groin and exploding from him in such sheer force that he thought he might pass out from the pleasure. Sometime in his tidal wave of nirvana Rude had grasped his length and pumped him for all his worth, his essence now coating both their stomachs.

Rude had lost it the moment Reno's passage had tightened and spasmed around him, the bald man grunting his release. Reno felt it – it seemed like his orgasm was endless, Rude spilling deeply and powerfully within him. His eyes _did_ roll back momentarily, Reno noticing with a smirk.

When they were both completely spent, Reno lifted off, lying down beside his partner.

"That was…" Rude began to say.

"Fucking good."

"…yeah." They were silent, enjoying the thrum of both their bodies. Finally, Rude attempted to speak again.

"I don't really know what this all was…"

"I want you, you want me. That's all I can really understand right now. We'll figure it out when we can." Rude was satisfied enough with that. He was probably figuring out how Reno knew about his attraction to him, but after experiencing this, it didn't matter so much.

"We should rinse off." Rude said, trying to lift off from his bed. Reno could see his body protesting him – after a romp like that, injured no less and on minimal sleep, he probably wanted to nap right now. Reno sure was – the sex had made him forget about his own injuries, but now they were starting to throb, and he was feeling exhaustion settle in.

"Wash, then sleep for awhile. We can get back to work later." Reno said, following Rude to the bathroom. Yes, work could come after a good rest. They both needed it, especially after a workout like that.


	8. Chapter 8

**Bullet Catchers**

**By Jazzbo22**

**Jazzbo22 hotmail . com**

An assassination attempt leaves Rufus questioning his vulnerability. The Turks struggle to keep the President out of harm's way, but is it enough?

TsengxRufus, RudexReno, yaoi, angst

A/N: As promised, here is a whole chapter dedicated to Tseng and Rufus. I'm so happy you guys are loving this, and sharing your creativity with me (I've received three pieces of fanart so far for THIS STORY ALONE!) I gotta get a blog or something so I can showcase your talents. As always, I love your reviews, they fill me with writing energy and please me to no end! Hope you enjoy this chapter, and check back soon! Thanks guys!

xxxxxxxxxx Chapter Eight

Rufus had a fitful sleep, and judging by the darkness under Tseng's eyes and his tight expression, the Wutaian was also suffering. Rufus was sure whatever was keeping Tseng up wasn't the same as what was keeping _him_ up.

"Nothing so far?" He decided to ask. Tseng shook his head.

"I honestly didn't expect for us to have so few leads. I had hoped we could have settled this today."

"Me too."

After the meeting had gone wrong, Tseng had been very angry – not only for Rude and Reno, but because he had been looking forward to closing the lid on this thing. Who knew how long it was going to go on for now?

"All we can do at this moment is wait. Gomez will call if he gets anything of substance out of Falcon, and Reno is trying to put some names to those faces. There is nothing for me to do until I hear from them." Tseng said, massaging his temples lightly. He was doing that a lot lately…

Tseng was trying to play the hero. Rufus could see it. He was trying to do everything at once, and because the mission wasn't going as planned, he was punishing himself for it. He wasn't used to having his perfect record disrupted like that, and Rufus could imagine that it was driving him slowly mad. There wasn't anything that could be done though, and that realization was winding Tseng tighter and tighter. Rufus had never seen him crack – Tseng just didn't _do_ that, but he had heard the stories…

"I just don't know who could be helping them…" Tseng muttered, standing. Ah, yes. Then there was the matter of the Shinra traitor. Gomez was heading that investigation right now, since he was spending the most time at HQ. Rufus knew Tseng would rather be at the building, combing through all the employees. The Wutaian always seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to sifting through someone's head. Picking out the lies. Knowing what they were thinking, what they were feeling. Rufus had been on the receiving end of Tseng's prying stare before – it was completely unnerving, though he would never admit to it.

"Everything will fall into place. There are good men working under you." Rufus knew he didn't sound convincing at all, but Tseng let it slip by. After all, all this work was being done so _Rufus_ wasn't the one killed. All the stress, the restlessness and the overtime wasn't for their own lives, it was for his. And damn, if that wasn't humbling enough, Rufus didn't know what else was.

"So long as you're here and uninjured, then we are doing something right." Tseng said, finally meeting Rufus' gaze. Even though he was probably running on next to no sleep, hadn't eaten or drank much, and in pain from his shoulder, his dark eyes didn't betray a thing. Tseng was a strong, strong man, and Rufus felt his admiration slide up a notch. They didn't come any better.

Tseng didn't look away as Rufus expected he would. Usually he didn't stand still for long, he had business to attend to, shoulders to watch over. But here they were, standing in Tseng's kitchen, the Wutaian with the dark probing eyes just looking at him, waiting. Rufus felt his icy exterior shift, revealing something much more vulnerable. He felt his doubts and insecurities rise from a whisper to a roar, and he tore his eyes away. He was mortified. How was he expected to deal with all of this, when he had been forced to repress it all his life? He couldn't bear to look back, worried at what Tseng might have seen, might have read from his nervous gaze.

"I should get back to my reports…"

"Rufus…"

Feeling like more of a coward for running away, Rufus turned with the intention of grabbing his briefcase and drowning himself in reports. Tseng had moved, started to follow him until his PHS went off. Thank god. He couldn't deal with a confrontation after that. If Tseng got in his face he'd either snap and unload years of repression on him or kiss him senseless. He couldn't see a happy ending come through either scenario.

"Tseng." Rufus grabbed his briefcase, walking past Tseng to sit in the living room. He avoided looking at his eyes, but he listened intently to his one-sided conversation. If it were possible, he could feel Tseng's energy, heavy in the air. Whatever was being said to him wasn't putting him in a good mood.

"Yes sir. I'll be there in twenty minutes." Sir? Not any of his men then. There were only two people Tseng referred to as 'sir'. The first was him. The second was Heidegger, but more in formality. Most of the time Tseng was doing his job for him. Hanging up, he turned to look at Rufus.

"I'm being called in for a meeting. I want you to stay here, if there are any problems you can call Gomez, Reno or Rude…" Rufus could feel Tseng weighing him again. He knew Tseng wanted to tack on, 'let's talk after'. It was all but said in his eyes. He was…concerned? Tseng let him in on that much before settling into his typical stony expression again.

He disappeared into his room, leaving Rufus out by the coffee table, reports in hand. In a matter of minutes, Tseng reemerged again, dressed in the standard navy blue Turk uniform. He always looked good in that…

Rufus turned his attention towards his reports, waiting for Tseng to leave. He didn't need two embarrassing encounters in one day. The President eyeing his Turk in a not-so-innocent way? It would be hard to justify that.

The door closed with a barely audible 'click', Rufus letting out the breath he didn't know he had been holding. With Tseng out he could relax a little, but from here on out things were going to get a lot more difficult with the Turk around. Tseng had caught onto something, and he wouldn't stop until he knew what it was. It made him an excellent employee, but completely bothersome when it pertained to personal matters. And this was definitely _personal._

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"They are getting too close."

"I know that, it's just…"

"They need to be taken care of. _All_ of them."

"We anticipated the bomb would take out the two other Turks."

"You fucked up. They are still alive. It's _unacceptable._ The woman is still in the hospital as well – I thought she was going to be eliminated by now. Why hasn't that been done?"

"…She's…well…she's being monitored. There's no way around it. We tried to get through, it's just too _risky_."

"The redhead and the baldy have seen too much. At least four of my men were in there. Sooner or later they're going to know who they are, and then we'll be exposed."

"Yes…we're forming another plan. They are strong – they are going to have to be taken care of differently."

"Better not underestimate them. You've done that already and look where we are? Nowhere. The President is still alive."

"I know…"

"And you haven't even considered President Shinra's personal bodyguard. As far as I'm concerned, he's the one we should be _afraid_ of. He's too intelligent, too driven, and too strong. We won't be getting anywhere _near_ Rufus until that Turk is _dead._"

"…He doesn't die easily. He's been trained to go through a lot…"

"Yes, I've read his measly file. I'm surprised you don't have more information for me. Shinra really doesn't document their trained assassins all that well. It would seem to me you'd want more on them, in case you find yourself with a loose cannon."

"Shinra's never had a problem with deserter Turks. They are a tightly woven group, like _family_, if you will. They are also dedicated to their leader, and Tseng…well, he's quite the leader…"

"If you bite the snake head off, things will fall apart. The Turks will lose confidence, and Rufus will be a mess. I want Tseng elimated – _today._"

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Heidegger had offered Tseng a seat in his office, clearly wanting to appear more personal. Usually Tseng would stand, as meetings with his boss weren't all that long. Seemed Heidegger had more to talk about than status reports.

Finally Heidegger cleared his throat, leaning both his elbows on his desk. Whatever he had been called in here for, it was apparently serious. Heidegger didn't bark out his ridiculous laugh.

"I've been talking this over with some of the SOLDIER commanders. After Reno and Rude's close encounter, we think it best that Rufus have more security. At a time like this, it is imperative that he is guarded around the clock. I need to know where he is – we can't let anything happen to him."

"President Shinra is in a safe place." Tseng spoke evenly. Heidegger's face flushed slightly.

"In the past, when the former President Shinra was facing death threats, he relied not only on the Turks, but on SOLDIERs as well for his security. We are wanting to extend the same offer to Rufus as well."

"I am curious," Tseng started. "Why, especially as the head of the Department of Administrative Research, you aren't confident in your own Turks. As far as I'm concerned, we've been doing the best job so far in protecting the President. The security breach at the Supreme Conference Center was not due to us, if you recall."

"I'm not going to sit here and argue with you Tseng. The late President Shinra was perfectly content under the protection of SOLDIERs and Turks alike."

"And under that protection he is now referred to as 'former' and 'late'. I don't want Rufus to be called the same things as well, which is why his location is private. The less people know about him, the _safer_ he is."

"You don't trust me then?"

"I can't trust anyone right now. I mean no disrespect sir, but I don't know who else could be listening in. I can assure you that President Shinra is safe though, and to me, that's the most important thing."

"Do I have to _order _you to divulge Rufus' location?" Heidegger's face was bright red, and he was clutching his fists angrily. Tseng forced himself to remain calm. He couldn't engage in a yelling match – this had to be handled professionally.

"Ultimately, I receive my orders from the President. He has ordered me to keep his location private, which is what I plan to do. If there is a problem, I would suggest you contact him directly."

"I _will._ You are dismissed Tseng. I expected better from you." Tseng stood, taking brisk strides towards the door. _This _was what the meeting was about? He expected _better_ from Heidegger.

He closed the door to his office, heading towards the elevator. The building was quiet – most people had gone home for the day to their families, oblivious to the troubles the President faced. The Turks kept things quiet to avoid panic.

Tseng pushed the button marked 'P1', waiting for the elevator doors to close. It was a long way down to the parking garage, so he used the time to reflect on the meeting with Heidegger. Sometimes the man could be pushy and throw his weight around when Rufus wasn't present. Tseng always thought that Heidegger wanted to be President of Shinra. It came as a real disappointment to Heidegger when Jack Shinra told the world he had just had a son, the future heir to the company. Tseng remembered that day, even though he wasn't an employee then. It had been all over the news, and the papers in subsequent days.

Tseng had been ten at the time, interested in Shinra even then and keeping himself up-to-date on all the news. He had seen the excitement in President Shinra's eyes as he told the world his good news, and had seen Heidegger's solemn face standing beside him as the whole world found out that Shinra Inc would eventually be taken over by this little, blue-eyed baby.

He joined Shinra just over six years later, scouted for his enormous potential and sent to work with the best. It was then that he first met Heidegger, and had heard enough bitter stories about how he loathed that President Shinra had a son, since it limited his own opportunities to work up the corporate ladder.

Since Rufus has taken over the Presidency though, Heidegger had become docile, resigned to the fact that this was the way it was going to go.

Tseng was a bit surprised at Heidegger's pushiness. It came as a real shock that the former President Shinra had been murdered right in his own office, so he would've thought that Heidegger would have enough faith in his Turks to do right by Rufus the second time round. They weren't even dealing with Sephiroth this time – it was a bunch of no-good terrorists wanting to get a rise out of the company.

The elevator 'dinged', opening. Tseng stepped off, into the parking garage. There were only a few cars left, family vans or Volkswagens. His was the only car that stood out – the Mercedes, a beautiful car. A frightening symbol. Unlocking the car door, he sat down, placing the key in the ignition.

The car rumbled, but didn't turn over. Tseng tried again, the same thing happened. To anyone else, this would be frustrating. But this didn't happen, unless…

"Fuck!" Tseng bolted, running for any sort of cover. He managed to duck behind the front tire of a Montana before an explosion rocked him off his feet, the sound echoing off the concrete of the garage and deafening him. His car had burst into flames, sending various pieces flying across the garage, parts connecting with other vehicles and showering him in broken glass.

He had been too close. The flames were scorching, he had been burned slightly when he fell to the ground. Sitting up, he tried to assess the damage done. His ears were still ringing, and he was bleeding in several places. Nothing seemed too severe – mostly shallow slices from broken glass, a car part had connected with his hip. Nothing was broken though, as far as he could tell. The most blood was coming from his shoulder.

Pulling his tie loose and unbuttoning the first few buttons of his dress shirt, he lifted it to have a look. He had ripped nearly all the stitches from his bullet wound – it was bleeding significantly.

Pulling out his PHS, he held it to his ear, using his other hand to apply pressure on his bullet wound.

"Gomez."

"I need you to pick me up, two blocks south of Shinra HQ, _now_." Tseng barked.

"Roger that."

He hung up, pocketing his phone and bolting from the parking garage. Whoever had planted the bomb in his car would be along shortly to see whether or not they had gotten him, and he didn't want to be standing around waiting. Best to make it seem they had won, at least until the flames died down.

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Rufus had spent the entire time torturing himself with what he thought Tseng _thought._ It would have been better to get the talking and accusations out of the way before Tseng had left, so he could at least have some shred of concentration.

It frustrated him and made him feel inadequate to a degree. He wasn't even strong enough to deal with his own feelings. It wasn't even the sexual tension that was getting to him – he had brought women to his bed before to satisfy his urges, but it was always strictly impersonal. This though, what he was feeling for Tseng, what he _wanted_ – it was so much more than just his body wanting his. He wanted to know _who_ Tseng was, and in the process, wanted to rediscover himself again. He wanted to indulge in the things that had been taken away from him – humiliated by his mother and father to become this icy person. Sometime he wanted to talk to the real him that got pushed away, find out what he was _really_ like.

Rufus looked up as the front door was unlocked. He pushed his reports into a neat pile, watching as Tseng came through the door. This was not what he expected.

"Holy shit! What happened?" He had jumped up from the couch and was coming towards Tseng's side before he had managed to close the door.

"_Stay."_ Tseng snapped, closing and locking the door behind him. Rufus could've smacked himself. Good idea, running in front of the _open_ door. Put all Tseng's hard work at keeping his location secret a waste. He waited until Tseng was finished with the door before approaching again, taking in his appearance.

Tseng didn't look good. He was scraped up, bleeding, and his shoulder –

Blood was all down the front of his shirt and jacket, leaking through his fingers where he had applied pressure to the wound.

Rufus instinctively threw Tseng's arm over his shoulder, leading the Wutaian to the bathroom. Tseng didn't argue, didn't fuss – he let Rufus maneuver him onto the toilet seat, let him gently remove his tie and jacket.

Rufus unbuttoned Tseng's dress shirt, helping his bad shoulder through the fabric, knowing he must've been causing the Turk some pain. Tseng's expression didn't betray anything though – it was eerily blank.

"Your med kit?"

"Hallway closet." Tseng answered, finally looking down to inspect the damage. Rufus went to the closet, grabbing the med kit as well as a few towels. He rinsed one in warm water, cleaning the blood up as best he could. Right now his primary concern was the open bullet hole in Tseng's shoulder.

"I need to clean it." Rufus said, sifting through the contents of the kit.

"There's whiskey in the kitchen." Tseng said, pressing the damp washcloth over the wound. Rufus raised an eyebrow.

"Don't you have anything more…medical? That's really going to sting."

"I usually go to the _hospital_, but that really isn't an option right now." Rufus left the bathroom, in search of the whiskey. He would get the full story from Tseng soon, even if he had to pry it from him.

Finding the whiskey, he grabbed the bottle and returned to the washroom. Tseng had laid out a needle and thread atop a sterilized pad.

"You're going to?" Rufus was surprised. He hadn't thought about the stitches. Sure, it was a bad wound, but he thought he would just bandage it. Wow, Tseng was actually going to do that? To himself?

"Unless you want to? I've done it before so don't worry if it makes you queasy. It's just an awkward angle for me…"

Rufus uncapped the bottle of whiskey, handing it to Tseng. He watched, cringing inwardly as Tseng poured it into the bullet wound, hissing as it made contact with his skin. He made quick work of his other scrapes, using less whiskey than he had for the first wound. After he was finished, he tilted the bottle to his lips, swallowing a generous amount. He didn't even make a face…

Placing the bottle on the counter, he threaded the needle with surprisingly nimble fingers. Tying a knot, he looked up at Rufus, holding the needle out.

"Can…would you?" Here was this man, obviously dragged through the shitter, bleeding and burned in several places, and all he wanted was for Rufus to stitch him up? He could do that. Taking the needle, he knelt before Tseng, holding his breath as he pierced the skin. All Tseng did was grunt. Rufus tried to be as quick as possible, hoping the discomfort was minimal. Tseng was breathing deep, controlling himself, focusing on anything but the pain.

When he was done, Rufus tied a knot at the end, using a tiny pair of medical scissors to cut the rest of the thread.

"Does anything else need stitching?" He asked, placing the needle on the counter. He reached into the kit, pulling out a piece of gaze and adhesive. Tseng waited patiently while Rufus covered the wound, securing it with the adhesive.

"No, every other cut seems to be shallow. No broken glass in there." Rufus pulled out more bandages, patching up Tseng as best as he could. He sat still, waiting until Rufus finally stepped away.

"Any cuts on your legs?" Rufus asked. Tseng shook his head.

"I got hit in the hip and thigh with debris, so I'm just bruised. It's okay."

"…debris?" Rufus asked, leaning against the counter. Tseng nodded, reaching into the medical kit. He pulled out a bottle of ointment, though he didn't elaborate. Uncapping it, he squirted a generous amount into his palm before rubbing it into all his burns. They weren't bad, but looked aggravated.

"What happened?"

"Are you okay?" Tseng asked, looking at Rufus. Really _looking _at him. He was doing that prying thing again. Rufus turned away.

"I don't know what you're referring to."

"I think you do." Tseng said, capping the ointment. He tossed it back into the kit.

"Tseng, what happened out there?"

"You know that you can talk to me." Tseng stood, washing his hands. Rufus moved away, though it wasn't necessarily to give him more room.

"I'm just stressed." It was a thin lie, one that Tseng would be able to see through. He didn't comment though. Instead, he leaned down to splash his face, removing any dirt or soot that had smeared his complexion. Grabbing a towel, he patted himself dry.

Rufus wanted to leave the washroom, go back to his work, but his feet were cemented in place. Tseng turned to him, seeming much bigger, much more imposing. Rufus stared up at him.

"When are you going to answer my question?" He asked. Tseng raised an eyebrow.

"When are you going to answer _mine_?"

As if Rufus could just tell him what was on his mind. Tseng didn't know how complicated it all was, he wouldn't be able to understand. Whatever happened to him – someone had come after him, that was obvious – Rufus didn't want to come clean, certain Tseng would turn his back on him. He would find out that guarding Rufus was a waste of his time and his _life_.

"I can't."

"If you can't trust me Rufus, how can you expect me to be able to protect you? I need you to _trust_ _me_."

"It isn't about trust." Rufus' feet were working again, much to his relief. He left the bathroom faster than he intended, speedwalking right to the living room. Tseng was gliding along right behind him, his perfect shadow. Rufus sat, fussing with his reports, finding anything to do except look at _him._

Tseng placed a hand over his, another on his shoulder. Rufus stopped, meeting his eyes. Tseng was looking at him with a mixture of concern and exhaustion.

"I can't sleep." Rufus blurted out, knowing that it was only the tip of the iceberg. It was the truth though, he knew his appearance could attest to that much. Tseng nodded, placing his hands on the back of Rufus' neck. He applied pressure, rotating his fingers on the muscle, loosening him up.

"From time to time you have to listen to your body. Right now I can feel the tension within you. Remember what I said about focusing on your energy sources? You have to do this or else you'll wind yourself too tight, and you'll never enter a restful state. Meditate on your energy. You can feel it passing through you. You'll also feel the tension leave your body." Tseng was doing that thing again, pressing down and massaging. It was all in innocence, meant to relax him and make him tired, but the contact, and the heat from Tseng's body was doing anything but.

His doubts were bubbling forth once again. He could hear his mother's voice in his head, humiliating him, striking him down. Telling him that he was unacceptable. His father belittling him for his weaknesses, making him feel more worthless and insignificant than he already was. Telling him he would have no political career, that his aspirations would be short lived, and that he would be nothing until the day he died.

He also thought of that day, standing on the podium, Tseng putting himself in front of that bullet. Tseng's life was so much more important than his own. People loved and admired him. His Turks would do anything for their fearless leader. They served Rufus only out of obligation.

The terrorists should have put him out of his misery. His entire life was lived in falsehood, his pretentious image his only safeguard. The icy bastard was his only security, his defense mechanism. He had no friends. The Turks were loyal to him because he gave them their paychecks. He had been crafted and manipulated into the man he was today only because the person deep within him was _weak_ and _unacceptable_. Not someone worth jumping in front of a bullet for.

"Rufus?" Horrified, Rufus rubbed at his eyes. He had started crying sometime in his thoughts, his tears a steady flow. Disgraced, he started to pull away, but Tseng had a firm grip on his arm. He forced Rufus to sit back down.

"It's okay. Sometimes people get emotional while their negative energy is worked away." Still with this energy thing. Rufus knew it was a Wutaian method, it obviously worked because Tseng was still standing with no sleep and no food. His problems ran deeper than an emotional release of negativity.

Tseng placed his hand under Rufus' chin, tilting his head up. He wanted to probe again, Rufus knew it. He couldn't get more vulnerable than he was already, and Tseng was going to take advantage of this opportunity. He felt like a sobbing girl, even though deep down he knew he wasn't sobbing. It was a manly cry…he hoped. Silent tears. Embarrassing for him.

Finally he looked at Tseng, trying to regain some composure, save face a bit. He couldn't think of an excuse though – there was dust in the air! …wasn't going to cut it.

Tseng was patient, his eyes soft, warm. This man had a hundred different expressions, and knew when to use each one. Rufus didn't take him for the sensitive type. Then again, when it came to Tseng, he proved everyone wrong _all the time_.

"You know you don't have to put up your front with just me around." Tseng finally said, recognizing Rufus' attempt to slide back into icy, indifferent mode. Rufus wasn't even going to play dumb – he knew the Turk was well aware of his 'office face'. People weren't one-dimensional. He had always relaxed slightly when it was just he and Tseng, though right now he felt anything but.

Tseng was wiping his eyes, sitting across from him wearing only his navy dress pants. He was banged up, covered in scrapes and bruises, but he still looked like the leading man.

Rufus enjoyed the feel of Tseng's fingers on his face, brushing away the last of the moisture from his eyes. He leaned into the touch, wanting to be pulled closer, wanting more.

"Tseng…" It was just a name, but the way it left Rufus' lips, breathy and suggestive dragged him back to reality. Eyes widening, Rufus pulled back, away from him, wishing he could put the world between them. Tseng sat completely still, no doubt clued in to Rufus' inner turmoil. He didn't look revolted, it didn't seem like he was going to get up and leave. Rufus wanted him to, just to save him from the shame.

Instead, Tseng leaned closer, dangerously so, looking at him with almost a predatory gleam in those onyx eyes.

"What do you want, Rufus?" This was so unexpected. Rufus didn't even know how to answer. His mouth had gone dry. He licked his lips, surprised at the interest his tongue drew from the older man. Since when…did Tseng…?

"Say it." He was close, inches away, watching, waiting for him. It occurred to Rufus that he wasn't going to go any further until he said so. Until he admitted to himself that what he wanted…was sitting right in front of him. God, did Tseng actually _know_ what was going on in his head, and was forcing him in a roundabout way to confront it? Was he really that obvious? Tseng was good, he was observant and far too intelligent, but how could he…

"Tseng…"

"Tell me."

"…you." It was one word, so innocent by itself, but for Rufus to say it – he felt his inner demons surge forth, ready to crush his confidence and fill his head with insecurities. That one word took more effort to say than he had thought.

Tseng silenced the roaring in his head by leaning forward, capturing his mouth in a gentle yet possessive kiss. Rufus should've figured that Tseng was smooth on all accounts. He opened Rufus up with next to no effort, slipping his tongue in between breathless, parted lips, stroking, exploring, and dominating him. He thought about battling with Tseng, asserting his own dominance, but it was clear that Tseng would take what he wanted. The man in control right now wasn't Rufus. It was the Wutaian with the experienced tongue and the soft, yet strong lips.

Rufus hadn't kissed a man since his teenage years. He wasn't used to being the submissive one, whereas Tseng seemed to be quite comfortable in his position right now. He knew the Turk was older, more experienced…it didn't seem like this was his first time with a man…

Tseng bit his lip lightly, flicking his tongue over the abused skin. A moan escaped Rufus before he could contain it, but it didn't seem to startle Tseng. In fact, in only made him kiss deeper, more thoroughly. Rufus was breathing haggardly, too caught up in his passion to take deep, controlled breaths. Tseng finally pulled away, probably thinking that Rufus was going to start hyperventilating soon.

"I wasn't sure if you…wanted me." Tseng started. He still looked composed. Rufus was sure he looked far from it.

"I do."

"That explains a lot then."

"How come you didn't say anything?" Rufus asked. If Tseng felt the same way, which it seemed he did, why was he only hearing about it now? As far as he was concerned, Tseng hadn't given him any indication that he was interested at all, up until now. Tseng actually looked slightly sheepish.

"I couldn't just…I've wanted you. I've worked under your father for sixteen years. I found myself becoming interested when you were appointed vice-President, but it would've been inappropriate for me to act anything less than professional."

"So you were just going to wait…?"

"If you seemed interested. Which you do. But I wanted you to reach that place on your own, without anyone…I have an idea of what your upbringing was like. I was around your parents enough to know what kind of people they were. So yes, I was going to wait, until you figured out what you wanted."

"Were you alone all that time?" Now Rufus was fishing. He wanted to know how Tseng got that experienced mouth of his. If that was any indication, the rest of him was probably the same, which made him a little jealous. Now he was getting possessive?

"Well…no. I've had lovers."

"…men?"

"In my culture, it isn't abnormal to have lovers from both sexes." Tseng admitted. "It's about respecting the soul first and foremost, regardless of the gender."

Rufus had more questions, but was interrupted by Tseng's PHS. He disappeared to the bathroom to fetch it out of his suit jacket, leaving Rufus on the couch, mind whirling. Was this all really happening? Did Tseng actually want him from the time he was nineteen? It was only three years, but that was still a significant amount of time. Now that Rufus thought about it, he started paying attention to the Wutaian long before then.

Tseng stayed in the bathroom to take his call, Rufus only hearing his muffled voice. He caught 'explosion' and 'car'. Tseng still hadn't told him how he was injured.

He came out of the washroom after a few minutes, looking none too pleased. Rufus decided to ask his question again.

"What happened?" He motioned towards the cuts adorning Tseng's chest, face and arms, as well as the purpling bruise on his hip. Tseng sighed, placing his PHS on the coffee table.

"Sometime during my meeting with Heidegger, someone put a bomb in my car." Rufus' eyes widened slightly. "As you can see, I clued on in time. I managed to take cover behind another vehicle before it exploded."

"How did they know you were going to be there?"

"That's what I was wondering." Tseng had his menacing face on again. "Either they're monitoring the parking lot, or someone had clued them in that I would be arriving."

"No one else knew you were going to the meeting, except…"

"Heidegger. Which is troubling, considering the entire meeting was about him wanting to know where you are. Right now they still think I'm dead. We don't have a lot of time before they realize I'm not."

"What's going to happen?" Rufus was shocked. He didn't think Heidegger had the balls to off him _and_ take out his own Turks.

"Reno and Rude have been notified. We're using this to our advantage. Soon Heidegger will know we've caught onto him." Rufus nodded. Tseng didn't need to tell him that things were about to get ugly.

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	9. Chapter 9

**Bullet Catchers**

**By Jazzbo22**

**Jazzbo22 hotmail . com**

An assassination attempt leaves Rufus questioning his vulnerability. The Turks struggle to keep the President out of harm's way, but is it enough?

TsengxRufus, RudexReno, yaoi, angst

A/N: Thank you everyone for the continued wonderful reviews and the interest in my fic! I apologize for the short chapter, I tried to blast it off fast because I am disappearing off on vacation for a week, with no internet :S But I am bringing my computer so I can still write! So look forward to an extra good chapter when I get back (to make up for this smaller one). Funny sidenote – I found an assignment from my gr. 12 writer's craft journal where I had to propose a novel idea, and I wrote about a Russian spy accidentally assassinating the wrong target, and all the consequences of that…and all my teacher wrote was, 'you really enjoy writing about war and conflict, don't you?'. If you knew this man, you'd know he disapproved of such things, haha. Well, here's my conflict story, enjoy!

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Chapter Nine

Tseng had made sure to inform Rufus that sometime soon he would be expecting a phone call from Heidegger. During the meeting his boss had been fishing for Rufus' location, making it perfectly clear he was going to call the President himself to do some digging. Tseng had made sure to coach him on what to say, including Tseng's apparent death via car bomb.

Not much later Rufus' PHS started to ring. Tseng leaned against the far wall in his living room, watching Rufus put his game face on before answering the phone.

"Heidegger, is it really necessary to call me at this hour? I'm trying to have some peace and quiet tonight." Tseng could almost hear Heidegger's apologetic blather. Rufus rolled his eyes, giving his phone the finger.

"No, I haven't heard anything from Tseng. Is there a problem?" They had both figured, after talking to Gomez as well as Reno and Rude, that the news of Tseng's death wouldn't be out yet. After the explosion it would take some time to sort through the rubble for human remains.

"My location is private Heidegger. I've said often enough in meetings that it would stay that way, so I don't know why _you can't understand that._" Tseng had to admire him – Rufus could put just the right amount of malice in his voice. Heidegger was probably shitting his pants.

"I said I hadn't heard anything from Tseng yet. Is that important to you? _Is there something you need to tell me_?" Apparently not. Soon after Rufus hung up the phone, placing it on the coffee table.

"They don't know that you're not dead yet, which is good. So what's the plan?" All Tseng had been doing was thinking about the plan. Reno had made tremendous headway on the search – he anticipated hearing good news from him within the hour. Gomez had also found a few things of interest – the SOLDIERs that had gone missing on the day of the attack had shown up – in the shallow end of the ocean outside Midgar, stripped of their uniforms. Which meant severe foul play, and not from them.

Tseng had thought that the terrorists who had ambushed the SOLDIERs had disposed of them after taking their uniforms, meaning whoever had masqueraded as Shinra military weren't currently part of Shinra. Now that it was clear Heidegger was part of this operation, it explained how the security room had been breached and the cameras tampered with. Tseng was trying to keep his mind clear, refusing to let his anger cloud his judgment or his awareness.

Right now wasn't the perfect time for a fight – Reno and Rude, as well as himself were injured. But, when was it ever a perfect time for a fight? He had been in unfortunate circumstances before and was still living to talk about it. Reno and Rude had been to the ICU plenty of times and then out on the field the following day. What made this difficult was the fact that they were going up directly with someone who they worked with, someone who had access to Shinra information. Their _boss_, most importantly.

This wasn't personal anymore. Tseng had decided that. Heidegger had sealed his own fate. The moment he had chosen to side with the terrorists and try to eliminate the President, he had painted himself a nameless, faceless target to the Turks. He was a problem that was going to be _dealt with._

The immediate plan was to capture Heidegger, though after checking in with Gomez it seemed the large man had fled HQ. Rude was on it, even though Tseng knew he was suffering with a leg injury. These men were specifically chosen to be Turks though, which meant Rude could grin and bear it, if necessary. Tseng had wanted to be out there looking for him, but at the moment staying with Rufus was more important, as well as deciding the best course of action. Once Rude had located Heidegger, then he could go after him.

"What would you like me to do?" Rufus asked, staring up at him expectantly from the couch. Tseng hadn't realized he had retreated into his mind, completely preoccupied with forming strategies for this goatfuck. Everything had to be delicate now – recklessness would result in death. That was certain.

"The best place for you is here. They can't find you. Once we locate Heidegger, we find the people he's working with. He's a weak man – he won't last through _my_ interrogation." Tseng didn't need to get into detail of what he planned to do. Rufus could read it all over his body. He knew he was a dangerous man – that's why he was specifically trusted with the President's security at all times.

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Reno was chewing on the tip of his ponytail with frustration. Rude had been sent out, scouring the streets for Heidegger. Both Tseng and Gomez had tipped them off onto what had happened – Reno was hardly fazed by anything these days, but _this_? He would've never guessed the overweight, pompous, horse-laughing shit for brains official Turk boss would drop this low. It was actually _surprising_. And who in their godforsaken right mind would EVER try to mess with Tseng?

He was also aggravated, as awful as it was to admit, that they had to call _right then_. He had been in the middle of getting Rude in the mood for round two after their nap when Tseng had called. Business came first though – everything else could happen later.

The database seemed to be never-ending. Who knew Shinra had so many employees in its history? Most of the faces he had gone through he didn't even recognize – testament to how little time he actually spent in the Shinra building.

Tseng had indulged in a theory while he had been on the phone with Reno, and now that he was by himself he was starting to mull it over as well. Out of everyone, Tseng knew Heidegger the best. He had worked his sixteen years under the man, and had become familiar with his strengths and weaknesses. Even though Heidegger seemed to be pulling a lot of strings, Tseng didn't think he had the brains to head the entire operation. It all felt to clean, too calculated – two weaknesses of Heidegger's. Which meant, according to Tseng, that there was someone smarter, quicker, and stronger pulling _Heidegger's _strings. That was a scary thought. Reno chomped harder on his ponytail. If the thought of that unnerved Tseng, what the fuck were the rest of them supposed to be feeling?

He hoped if that person was out there, Rude didn't come across him just yet. He would've rathered the doctors cure his partner's leg too, but they had refused. If Rude needed to run, or worse, _fight_, he wouldn't last long. He'd tear up the stitches closing the skin and keeping his muscle together, and then that would be the end of him.

Although Rude would _hate_ for him to say anything, he had mentioned his concerns to Tseng. The boss man hadn't told him to keep his trap shut, like his usually did – mind you, in worse terms – instead he seemed oddly agreeable. He had reassured Reno that he would be going out to work alongside Rude shortly. While that eased his mind somewhat, he also remembered that this whole thing started with Tseng catching a bullet in his _fucking shoulder. _Any closer to the right and he wouldn't be the leader of the Turks anymore – he'd be six feet under. Now THAT was a chilling thought.

Leaning back into the sofa, he skimmed the profiles as fast as he could. He had told Tseng that he'd have results within an hour – whether that be positive or nothing at all. Tapping on his keyboard, ponytail stuck between his lips, he reflected on the information they had so far.

Heidegger was involved – in a big way. There was a probability of someone controlling Heidegger, someone fast and intelligent, and obviously influential. These terrorists had managed to take out a small group of elite SOLDIERs, sneaking past Turks and guards alike and almost getting a clear shot at the President.

They had nearly killed both he and Rude, and now, Tseng. And worst part was – they were still evading their searches. That meant they had to be pretty damn good at espionage. If the terrorists had been a part of Shinra, there was only one division Reno could imagine them in – SOLDIER. And judging from all the information they had so far, they weren't in SOLDIER anymore.

Feeling energized, Reno closed the folder of secretaries and started searching through the SOLDIER database, focusing on dishonourable discharges, deaths and imprisonments. These guys were proving to be the scum of the earth, possibly holding a grudge for Shinra. It had to mean that somewhere along the way something happened to them to make them pissed enough to want to collapse the company. With their skill level, the only place for them would be within that folder. Maybe he would have positive news for Tseng, and if so, it would provide a whole new light on the case.

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Randolph Gomez was a busy man. Shinra only called him when they needed him for high profile cases, and this was proving to be quite the one. Here he thought he could enjoy some time in retirement, only to be summoned for yet another job. Well, it wasn't like he was obligated to go – he wasn't chained to his work anymore, he was free to leave whenever he wished – but Tseng had called. And when Tseng asked, he agreed. The informal leader of the Turks had quite a reputation as a professional, Randolph considering it an honour to work alongside the Wutaian. If Shinra only knew what kind of a gem they had in their grasp…

In the beginning he thought it would be a simple 'search and destroy' kind of project. Check the tapes, find the weakness, locate the source, and then exterminate. These terrorists, who had publicly announced through the shooting that Rufus was their number one enemy, were as slippery as a fish in water. They were professional, they were fueled with hate, and determined not to be found. When he had initially discovered the loop in the security tape, he thought he had stumbled upon the goldmine of information. Not so. It was just the tip of the iceberg, and after Tseng's phone call less than an hour ago, it was turning out to be a very _big iceberg_.

Heidegger. He would've never thought it. The man was too insignificant the majority of the time. He had all but disappeared on his radar as a threat. Sure, like everyone else who had been working at Shinra when Rufus was born, they had seen the jealousy. But it was just that – initial disappointment that Heidegger had shown, knowing he would never be in line for the presidency. Like he would be anyways – Jack Shinra was younger than him, and more likely to outlive him. No one anticipated that Sephiroth would go after the President.

He had been doing a lot of thinking on Heidegger after Tseng had informed him of what happened. While Tseng knew his boss quite well, Randolph had been an agent of Shinra's much longer, which meant more time with Heidegger. In all his years of being employed, he had noticed a few things about him; he was power-hungry, quick to agree to a plan that would give him immediate gratification without considering the long-term effects. Because of that, he didn't possess the intelligence that Tseng, he, or even Rufus had, his judgment too clouded in his lust for power. After working with Rude and Reno, he dared to say that even those two had the brains to tie Heidegger in a knot before the man realized what was happening.

To him that meant something bigger was at play. Someone who wanted something of the company but needed to go through Heidegger to get it. Randolph tried thinking of associates of Jack Shinra's who were equally as power driven but far more intelligent. This person had a plan, and had chosen Heidegger specifically. The man was weak – his loyalties easily swayed. If Rufus had come to him with a better offer, chances were that he would jump into the President's lap faster than a blink of the eye.

What he was about to do would end up in death if he was caught, but it was the only way. Heidegger had fled the building sometime between Tseng's car exploding and getting him back to his apartment. Chances were that he wouldn't come back to HQ until he received confirmation of Tseng's remains in the debris. Which left his office vacant for a good hour or more. That was plenty of time for him to get in there, and search for any useful information. He didn't bother checking this with Tseng – he had the go-ahead. Heidegger wasn't the brightest tool in the shed, which meant somewhere, most likely in his office, he had left a few loose strings. If anyone was going to slip up this mission, it was going to be the weak link – him.

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Rufus hadn't wanted him to leave. Tseng didn't want to either, especially after tantalizing, but fleeting kisses. He had to remind himself that all of that could come after the mission, when he was relaxed, fed, _rested_. Although he wasn't showing many physical signs, he was _exhausted_. He lay awake at night, guilt-ridden, feeling like all his time and attention should be directed towards the case. Not sleeping. When he did manage to catch an hour or so of shuteye, he was tortured by nightmares of Rufus losing his face to a bullet. It was better staying awake then being jolted from a dream like that, shaking and sweat-covered.

Although, when he lay awake, thoughts of closing the case weren't always on his mind. Having Rufus so close, in his home, his _domain_, did little to ease his nerves. It was hard trying to maintain a constant professional manner when the object of his long felt desires was sharing his living space, looking so vulnerable but trying hard to hide it. More than once he wanted to take Rufus, to show him through the physical that he was here, with him, without actually having to say it. Because, as he had known for a long time – Rufus trusted actions more than words. All too often the young President had been disappointed with words – he trusted those who backed up their speech with _doing_. So Tseng had always just _done it_ – no need to talk about it.

Now he had to do it again, this time with Rude. Reno had asked him in a roundabout way to look out for his partner, and as the head Turk, someone who they all admired, he had to watch over his men. No use promising Rude would be okay – he couldn't, because he didn't know. The best thing was to be alongside the bald man, combining their intelligence together and figuring out how this operation was going to go down.

In his career he had never come upon a case so involved. Usually he could quiet the criminal within the day. Not so this time – it was going on a week now and it felt like they had made next to no progress. Although, as far as he was concerned, he was still sitting on the winning side. He would be, as long as Rufus was alive and safe.

Rude was parked where Tseng had instructed. He slipped into the passengers seat, nodding at his subordinate beside him. Right now they were looking for a needle in a haystack, but so long as they were _looking_, they were moving forward. Sitting around meant that they were waiting for something to happen to _them_, and Tseng was tired of giving them the first attack.

"Any leads on Heidegger?" Tseng asked, already knowing the answer. Rude shook his head. If there had been anything, Tseng would've known about it before. Right now, they had to wait on Reno or Gomez to provide information, and it was _frustrating._ Nothing felt worse for the hunter than becoming the _hunted._

"Let's head to his apartment. He'll return there eventually, and we want to be ready."

"Yes sir."

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Reno was shocked. Although he had been slightly optimistic in his search, he didn't anticipate stumbling upon _this. _

Staring back at him through the computer screen were the faces of some of the men that he had seen at the meeting. That meant that the rest of the men were surely part of the same group.

Disgraced SOLDIERs, the lot of them. The men that had he had met were supposed to be in jail, locked away for the rest of their lives to rot. Men convicted of rape, murder, torture. Questionable morale. Some were even listed as dead or MIA, obviously covered up.

These men had been let out into the real world somehow, and had congregated in their hate for Shinra. They had the mutual desire to see Rufus die, to topple the head of the company. No doubt a plan of Heidegger's as well, since he was filled with power-lust. Getting Rufus out of the way meant Heidegger would finally have his shot at Presidency. Probably would've worked too, but Heidegger had underestimated his own division, and now – Reno felt like he had found the advantage, the _upper hand_. He knew who they were. They probably thought that the Turks weren't intelligent enough to put two and two together.

Not only that, but as of this moment they were under the impression that Tseng was dead. Until they realized otherwise, they had something big on them.

Without wasting another second, Reno fished out his PHS, dialing Tseng's number. This had to be dealt with – and _fast._ Time was running out, and as soon as the terrorists – Shinra abandoners realized that Tseng's body wasn't in that car, they would be coming after the Turks full force.


	10. Chapter 10

**Bullet Catchers**

**By Jazzbo22**

**Jazzbo22 hotmail . com**

An assassination attempt leaves Rufus questioning his vulnerability. The Turks struggle to keep the President out of harm's way, but is it enough?

TsengxRufus, RudexReno, yaoi, angst

A/N: Back now! Though I really could've stayed longer. I've got the next chapter halfway done, so I know that'll make you all happy! I'm pondering my next story as this one reaches the finish line (we still have a few chapters to go so no worries – you'll definitely get some Tseng/Rufus action). Thank you for all the lovely reviews (and the art :D) and I hope to hear from you! Enjoy :)

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Chapter Ten

Tseng knew he could count on Reno to come through in a big way. It was a surprise to hear that the terrorists behind this attack were ex-SOLDIERs. Men who were supposed to be locked away forever for committing heinous crimes. He didn't even have to guess who let them out – Heidegger had probably thrown his weight around, giving them the 'get out of jail free' card. Now that the Turks knew who they were, it gave them a tremendous lead. Reno was already mapping out possible locations for their headquarters based on the work they had done to get them jailed in the first place – apples never fall far from the tree.

Meanwhile, he and Rude had gone to Heidegger's apartment again, not the least bit surprised the lights weren't on. Instead of sitting outside, Tseng had decided that camping out _within_ Heidegger's home would be the best. Eventually he would come home, and they wanted him all alone.

Tseng anticipated waiting hours, or worse – _days,_ but the chips were all falling into place. Heidegger might be led into a false sense of security after his phone call with Rufus and would go home for the night, intent on relaxing and pondering a way to knock Rufus off the radar. After all, his trusty bodyguard died in a car explosion, so getting to Rufus would be easy. Tseng sneered at the thought. Heidegger was going to pay for every damn thing that happened – including the injuries sustained to all his Turks. Elena was still in the hospital, unconscious. Poor kid.

Making their way up to Heidegger's place undetected had been relatively easy. Sneaking around, blending into the shadows had always been a Turk's specialty. Picking his lock without making it appear someone had tinkered with it was a little trickier, but Tseng had steady hands and a clean touch. After minimal fussing the door opened with a soft 'click'. Heidegger hadn't put the safety chain on, ultimately saving them a lot of trouble.

Stepping into his home, Rude had closed the door behind them, securing the deadbolt. Without needing to speak, Rude disappeared to Heidegger's bedroom, pulling the drapes, dragging his desk chair into the middle of the room. Tseng was searching through the kitchen, looking for rope or tape, something to secure Heidegger to the chair once he got back. He would've preferred chains, but they had to work with what they were given. Bedsheets were a last option.

He found a bungee chord in the front hallway closet – it would call for some creativity, but Tseng had used worse. He brought along a few knives from the kitchen, as well as some garbage bags.

Rude took the garbage bags from him, tearing them into long, flat sheets. He placed a few underneath the chair, the rest surrounding it. Any mess that was made from the interrogation would be disposed of. Heidegger would go missing, and no one would know a damn thing. He meant it when he said the man was going to pay. Interrogation by a Turk was something to fear – Heidegger should've damn well known messing with this unit was a bad thing indeed. Rude took the knives, lining them up along the dresser. Heidegger would be able to see them from where he would eventually be seated - a visual threat. If Heidegger was quick to speak, then the knives wouldn't be necessary. A pillow over the face and a silencer on Tseng's pistol would do the job just fine of getting rid of Heidegger without much harm. That is, if Heidegger wanted to make things easy.

"Are you okay boss?" Rude asked, breaking the silence. Tseng raised an eyebrow.

"…yes. Why?" Rude just shrugged.

"You look like the walking dead." Tseng believed it. He couldn't wait until this whole ordeal was over. He would sleep, eat a decent meal, and take Rufus to bed – probably in that order.

Tseng went through the house, making sure nothing struck Heidegger as out of place when he arrived. He turned off the lights, taking his place beside the door. Rude came to stand near him. The plan was to knock Heidegger out as soon as he stepped within his apartment. They wouldn't even give him enough time to register who it was before he lost consciousness.

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Just as Tseng had anticipated, Heidegger had come home less than an hour after Rude and he first broke in. Heidegger must have been certain that there was no threat against him, no way the Turks could've known he was behind anything, because he stepped through the door alone. It all went like clockwork – Tseng was on him before Heidegger had a chance to reach for the light switch. Rude was right beside him, catching Heidegger before he hit the ground. No use having the neighbours hear the sound and come running over to check. Tseng wanted to do this as quietly as possible.

Rude had grunted as the overweight man collapsed into his arms. He dragged him into the bedroom, leaving Tseng to first check the hallway, then lock the door behind him. Tseng came to the bedroom afterwards, pleased to see Rude was already securing an unconscious Heidegger to the chair. In approximately ten minutes, he would awaken with a bitch of a headache, tied up in his bedroom. That would either make him very angry, or very scared. Tseng hoped more for fear – it was easier to question someone who was afraid, the process went much faster.

"I'll let Reno know." Rude said, pulling out his PHS. Tseng nodded, doing the same. Rufus, as well as Gomez had to be informed. Rufus picked up after the first ring, no doubt seeing Tseng's name on call display.

"Good news?" Rufus asked.

"We've got Heidegger. Interrogation will start once he wakes up."

"Great. When we find out who the bastard is running this thing, then we will have it all under control. Reno contacted me earlier to tell me about the ex-SOLDIERs involved. He says there's a good chance of locating them all within the next few days." He hoped so.

"I'll call when it's over." Tseng said. He hung up, dialing Gomez next. He filled him in on what was happening, not at all surprised to hear Gomez say,

"I'm in his office right now, so I'm glad to hear you've got him. I was afraid he might walk in on me."

"Find anything useful?" Tseng asked.

"Not so much yet. He's got pretty hefty security on his computer – much more than you'd expect from a guy in his position. I'm cracking it right now, and I bet I'll find something of interest after."

"Okay. Give me a call when you do."

"Alright. I'm out." Tseng hung up, turning his attention back to what was happening around him. Rude was leaning against one of the bedroom walls behind Heidegger. This had the possibility of being one of their dirtier interrogations, and Tseng was happy to have the bald man with him. Rude had a strong stomach, and had done this work with him before. He knew what to do.

They didn't have to wait long until Heidegger started to stir. Tseng had found a lamp, shining it directly in his face. All other lights in the house were off. Upon realizing he was bound, Heidegger's head snapped up, his vision effectively blinded by the light.

"What the fuck is this?" He squirmed, trying to find a way out. Both he and Rude tied the knots – there was no way they could come loose.

"Untie me!" Heidegger had much bravado, but his voice was quivering. Rude came out to step in front of the light, arms folded across a broad chest. Heidegger's eyes widened considerably.

"What the _hell_ do you think you're _doing?_ I could have you killed for this!" He sputtered, his face turning a deep shade of crimson. Rude cracked his knuckles.

"The same way you tried with Tseng?" Rude spoke, his voice dangerously low. Heidegger shook his head vehemently.

"I don't know what you're talking about! I haven't heard from Tseng at all!" Enough was enough. Tseng came into Heidegger's view, his face frighteningly impassive. Heidegger's mouth hung open.

"You didn't expect to see me, did you?" Tseng asked, leaning over to stare Heidegger right in the eyes. He had scared him into silence.

"You came close, I'll give you that. You should know though, if an operation goes wrong you have to be able to deal with the consequences. Unfortunately, because you tried to kill me, kill Rufus, and all _my_ Turks, the consequences are going to be very severe."

"Tseng, don't do this." Heidegger pleaded. It was too late for that. Tseng held out his hand. Rude reached over, placing the handle of a vicious blade in his palm. Heidegger fancied the expensive meat knives. All the better.

"No, no, no. Tseng, no!"

"Tell me who you're working for."

"I didn't do anything, I swear! I'm not involved!"

"I don't believe you." Tseng lifted the blade, driving it through Heidegger's forearm. Rude was on hand to stuff a makeshift gag into Heidegger's mouth to silence his scream.

"I'm going to warn you that this will get much worse if you don't start talking." Tseng spoke calmly. Rude waited until Heidegger's whimpering died down before removing the gag.

"Now you are going to tell me who is working with you, and their location. We aren't going to stop until you do."

"I swear on my life, I don't have anything to do with it!"

"I'm disappointed in you Heidegger," Tseng said, nodding to Rude. "I thought you would've known by now that we Turks take our business very seriously." Rude drove the second blade through Heidegger's opposite forearm. The gag was shoved in Heidegger's mouth, quelling his screams.

"We could go all night."

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"Heidegger isn't picking up his phone."

"Then they already have him."

"Should we send in a rescue?"

"No, leave him. He's a lost cause. We don't need him anyways."

"I still don't understand why you didn't shoot Tseng when you had the chance. You saw that the car bomb didn't work."

"Do you know what a panther on alert is like? There's no way I could've put a bullet in him without him noticing I was there. He would've been on me before I could even get a shot off. It's better that I didn't anyways – I followed him home. Now I know where Rufus is."

"Want me to send a few men in?"

"No, I'll go myself. He won't open the door if there's a whole group waiting for him. Have the van parked outside this location. We're going to take Rufus alive – for the time being."

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Rufus didn't expect the doorbell to ring. Tseng didn't seem like the type of person who got many visitors – if any. He liked his privacy, which was another reason his address in Midgar wasn't documented in any Shinra files. Curious, Rufus walked towards the door, looking through the peephole.

"Tseng, it's me. Open up!" A woman stood on the other side, looking to be in her early thirties. Right around Tseng's age.

"Listen, I know you're there. I really need to talk to you." She seemed to look distressed. Her hair was mussed, her clothes were put on haphazardly. She was clutching her handbag like her life depended on it.

"Please Tseng. I have nowhere else to go…I'm pregnant. Howard's looking for me, he said he'll strangle me if he finds me. Please let me in. I promise I'll be quiet." This woman spoke as if she was familiar with Tseng. Rufus wondered what he should do. Tseng hadn't told him about any women he was friendly with. On the other hand, Tseng hadn't told him much about his own life at all – he dodged personal questions.

Deciding that this woman was sincere, Rufus opened the door, the safety chain only permitting a few inches of room.

"Tseng isn't here right now." He said. The woman gazed at him with teary eyes. She looked oddly familiar…

"Really? Do you know when he's going to be back?" She looked so pathetic, sniffling outside Tseng's door like a lost puppy. Rufus actually felt bad for her.

"I don't know. He never said."

"…well, do you think I could come in to wait for him? I have nowhere else to go right now. I was counting on him being home." She was rubbing her stomach absently, probably concerned for her unborn child.

"I'm sorry. Tseng didn't tell me he was expecting anyone, so I can't let you in."

"Please! My child…we can't go anywhere else!"

"What's your name? I'll call him."

"It's okay," She said, reaching into her purse. "I think I have my phone here, I give him a ring instead." She pulled out a small black device, thrusting it towards Rufus. He didn't have enough time to shut the door before a strong electrical current ran through his body. He collapsed, his vision fading quickly to black.

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"I need someone to come up here and help me." Sasha Maksim was hissing through her phone. Howard was on the other end.

"What, now you need our help? I thought you had it under control."

"I did," She spat, "but he didn't fall for the damsel in distress routine. I had to taser him through the door. Tseng's going to know we were here – I had to break the door open to reach Rufus. I need someone to carry him out for me. Bring a damn blanket too! I don't need anyone coming across us with the President of Shinra."

"I thought you wanted to do this the neat and tidy way. The plan was to make Tseng confused, not give him the big blaring red signal that we came and took the President."

"Plans change all the time. Get your ass up here and bring him to the van. I'm not going to ask twice."

"Yes ma'am."

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The first thing Rufus was aware of when he awoke was the pain in all his muscles. They were tight, his head ached, and he felt nauseous. He tried to roll over on his side, but he had been secured to a bed, his wrists cuffed to the wire frame. He recalled the woman at the door, begging Tseng to be let in…

"Fuck."

"Glad to see you're awake now. I was beginning to wonder if you suffered brain damage." The same woman was seated across the room, looking far more different than she had been outside Tseng's apartment. Gone was the pathetic sniffling and pleading eyes- they had been replaced with a cool, sharp stare. Something he had perfected himself.

"How did you know where I was?" He decided to ask. They had him now, he was sure. These were the people that had pulled the gun on him in the first place. She gave him a none-too-welcoming smile.

"Heidegger came up with the idea of a car bomb. Really, I don't know why he would underestimate Tseng like that. He's far too intelligent to fall for such an old trick." She leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs. "But I watched him. It wasn't too hard – Tseng never expected anyone to follow him back to his home. I waited until he left before coming up for you. Figured you'd open the door to someone who sounded familiar to Tseng. It couldn't of worked better. Now here you are."

"Here I am." Rufus refused to show fear, weakness. He kept his stare as icy as her own. Even if he were killed, he'd go down without giving them the satisfaction of seeing him break.

"Do you know who we are?" She asked, looking smug. Like a cat playing with her mouse. Rufus tried to come off looking bored. It was an effort though – he couldn't read her, couldn't tell her intentions.

"A bunch of escaped cons, disgraced and humiliated ex- SOLDIERs. I would think you'd rather bury your heads in shame instead of making such a bold statement as coming after me."

"Big words from a small man. It is true, the men working for me are ex-SOLDIERs. Looks like you did your homework. I'm surprised you found that information so quickly. They are like the foot soldiers in an even bigger plan – useful but disposable if necessary. Just have to promise them revenge and power, and they are putty in my hands."

"You're the brains of this operation then?" Rufus inquired. He hoped to distract her enough so she wouldn't notice him scanning the room, looking for any possible exits. She grinned.

"I am the head of this. Heidegger fancied himself the leader, but his ambitions always exceeded his talents." So this was the woman pulling Heidegger's strings. Rufus could've sworn he'd seen her somewhere before.

"So it begins and ends with you." Rufus mused outloud. She laughed.

"There is no ending. As you can see, you are on borrowed time now. I am winning. It just keeps going and going."

"My Turks will find you."

"Oh _please,_" She hissed, rolling her eyes sarcastically. "_Your_ Turks are too busy interrogating the wrong man right now. Heidegger is just an insignificant pawn in the big picture. These SOLDIERs are nothing. The only person you should be concerned with is _me_, and your Turks don't even know I exist." Where did he know her from? Rufus' eyes narrowed. He had seen her somewhere, back before he became President.

"You're just as power-hungry as him, and that will be your downfall." Rufus knew that angering her probably wasn't the best thing to do, but if this was the end of his life, he wanted to go down fighting. Instead, she laughed.

"Then I guess you and I have something in common, _Mr. President._" Her copper hair, stern green eyes, severe expression…Rufus remembered.

"Sasha Maksim." She blinked, momentarily thrown off. Probably didn't expect Rufus to recognize her at all.

"Well, well. I guess you're smarter than you look." She sneered, standing. Things were starting to make sense to him now. Sasha had worked under his father. She had started as a lowly secretary, but her intelligence and ingenuity had caught the former President's eye. She had the mind of an engineer – her weapons development projects were astounding. She wanted more from the company though – a promotion and a large financial cut – and his father wasn't willing to pay up. Instead, she had been demoted, her ideas stolen with no credit…seemed she still harboured a grudge towards Shinra. She had somehow wormed her way into Heidegger's mind by promising him the same power that she craved, fueling his own desire to remove Rufus as the head of the company.

This had nothing to do with Rufus. This was her way of cleansing – causing the same pain that had been dealt to her.

"You're upset that your work had been stolen."

"It was more than just 'work'. The mako cannon, my series of robotic warriors…it's what I lived and breathed for, my ideas handed down to incompetent engineers and scientists."

"And you're mad because my father sold you out." She laughed, bitterly. There was more to that scenario it seemed. Rufus tested the waters.

"You were fucking him then, and he still treated you like the piece of shit you're proving to be." Sasha rounded on him, her cool look replaced by searing rage. She struck him across the face, Rufus' head snapping to side with the blow. He hadn't realized she was wearing some sort of steel knuckles – it hurt like a _bitch._

"You are going to die, you _fuck._ Shinra's last blood will be eradicated, and the company will come under new management. I'll get what I always deserved."


	11. Chapter 11

**Bullet Catchers**

**By Jazzbo22**

**Jazzbo22 hotmail . com**

An assassination attempt leaves Rufus questioning his vulnerability. The Turks struggle to keep the President out of harm's way, but is it enough?

TsengxRufus, RudexReno, yaoi, angst

A/N: Thank you for being so patient! I'm flying out for school this Monday (yay one more year to go and then I'm free!) so I'm madly trying to gather my things and pack. It's driving me crazy. Every year I leave things to the last minute. SO! That's why my writing is taking longer. Not to mention this is the POOREST I've ever been. The recession definitely hit my family hard (I have 37 cents in my bank account after paying tuition…) For the first time ever I am taking a creative writing course in school so hopefully that goes well for me! (Fingers crossed…)

Anyways, here is another chapter – thank you for all the reviews! I've never played Before Crisis so I didn't know that there was a character named Sasha! Whoopsie! :S Enjoy! Let me know what you think…and here's hoping my housemate will actually leave me alone this year so I can write!

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Chapter Eleven

Heidegger had started talking after some…influencing. With two knives in his forearms, as well as some missing fingernails, he finally cracked.

"I wasn't part of the initial planning," He stuttered out, pale and clammy. "I was recruited later on."

"By who?" Tseng asked, his voice scarily soft. Heidegger didn't seem to hear him.

"By then the plan to assassinate Rufus at the Supreme Conference Center had already been worked through. They needed me to get them into the security room, to get clearance."

"What about the ex-SOLDIERs involved?" Rude questioned, standing to the side of the light. Heidegger could hear him, but was unable to see him.

"Yes, yes. Those men. I did let them out of prison before…it was one of the first things I did for _her_."

"And you did all this…what? With the hopes that someday you might finally be President?" Tseng was holding another knife, flipping it dangerously close to Heidegger's head.

"It was a source of motivation to me, yes. I thought that I might be a better President – a better representative of this company."

"By murdering the President?" Rude remarked, at the same time as Tseng asked, "Who's _her_?" Heidegger was shaking.

"If I had known everything would pan out this way…"

"You mean, if you had known you'd get caught." Rude snarled.

"I am not going to ask again." Tseng spoke, his dark eyes narrowing menacingly. Heidegger flinched.

"…oh…the woman in charge. Sasha Maksim. She's the person that launched the plan, assigned the parts…this is all hers. She's the one you should be _questioning_! She wants Rufus dead!"

"You will _never_ say his name _again_." Tseng hissed, his face inches from Heidegger. The man visibly gulped.

"Sasha Maksim…sounds familiar." Rude said, looking at Tseng questionably. If Rude recognized the same, surely Tseng would have some insight. Sasha Maksim…

Then Tseng remembered. She was an insignificant plaything of Jack Shinra's a number of years ago. Did she really have the _balls_ to go through with such an operation? To organize the entire thing?

"I don't believe you." Tseng told Heidegger, holding the blade against the larger man's cheek.

"I, I _swear_! She's behind the entire thing! She's been planning this for years, since she got ousted by the company."

Tseng did recall her extensive work on weapons development, before it suddenly came under another man's name. The late President Shinra had made her go away, along with the work she had done. At least, removing her name from the work she had completed for Shinra. Her grudge was acknowledgeable, but this wasn't the way to go about it. Rufus had nothing to do with it. This was just a petty hate crime.

"Where can we find her, as well as the SOLDIERs she's working with?" Tseng asked, coming to stand directly in front of Heidegger. The man looked pathetic, slumped over in defeat.

"The SOLDIERs will be with her. She never told me where her headquarters was. I knew they were working out of the sector four slums for a short while, near the train station, but that wasn't permanent."

"So you don't know where she is at all?" Rude chose to clarify. Heidegger shook his head.

"I could call her though, see if she could set up a meeting."

"No." Tseng shook his head, his expression cold as ice. "She'd know you're captured. You can hear it clearly in your voice." Tseng turned, nodding to Rude before leaving the room. Rude stepped closer.

"Please Tseng! _Don't_!" Tseng didn't need to be in the room to know what Rude was doing. He was dialing Reno as he heard the muffled sound of a pistol with a silencer going off. Heidegger's whimpers were silenced.

"Reno here."

"Remember Sasha Maksim?"

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"Now that I have you here, I don't want to kill you just yet." Rufus tested his bonds. He was cuffed, and no amount of pulling was going to loosen them. His wrists were already sore from the effort. She didn't seem to notice just yet though.

"Like to play with your food for awhile?" Rufus mused, wrapping his hand around the steel bar of the bed frame. If he could find some way to loosen that, he might be able to break free. She laughed, but it was without humour.

"What a fitting analogy. I suppose that could be the case."

He had been there less than an hour, and Sasha had only left the room once. When she had, he had sat forward to see into the hall, where she was conversing with two men – both were definitely the ex-SOLDIERs that Reno had mentioned. Their eyes held the unmistakable glow of mako.

Rufus wasn't sure how many men Sasha had working for her. Reno had counted four previously. He had been in the process of checking the prison release records when Rufus had been captured, so he was unaware of what he was up against. He hoped Tseng would be done his interrogation with Heidegger and back at his apartment now. Then he would know there was a big problem, and would be looking for Rufus at this very moment. It felt better if Rufus could envision all the Turks out searching for him right now. If they weren't aware he was gone yet…it left a cold lump in his stomach. He didn't want to die before they even knew he was missing.

"I always knew without the Turks by your side you'd be fairly easy to capture. Your father was much the same way. Not so concerned with learning self defense." Rufus declined to comment. He wasn't as versed in hand to hand combat like his Turks, but he was a dead shot with a gun. Too bad he didn't have one on him. He would enjoy showing her how _defenseless_ he was with it.

"No comment eh? You've grown quiet."

"There's not much to say." Rufus admitted. If she hadn't been able to convince Heidegger to work for her, they might've not been in this situation. He would probably die, and it was all because of _Heidegger._ If Tseng hadn't killed him yet, Rufus would finish the job.

"Not even going to try begging for your life?" Rufus laughed. What a sense of humour this girl had. She was looking at him straight-faced. Tighter even, since he had laughed. Whoops. That wasn't a joke?

"I wouldn't give you the _satisfaction_ of hearing me beg, _slut_." She came to the side of the bed, her face red with anger. She hit him again, those damn brass knuckles making him see white.

"Asshole! You'll _wish_ I killed you right away!" She hit him again, Rufus' mouth filling with the metallic taste of blood.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

Tseng and Rude had gone to the sector four slums, not the least bit surprised to find nothing. It occurred to Tseng that Sasha played Heidegger like a pawn, and wouldn't actually divulge any useful information with him. Keep him in the loop long enough to get what she wanted, and then discard him later, like garbage.

He went back to his apartment, Rude following. He didn't anticipate in the slightest what he came across.

His door was ajar, splintered where the safety chain once was. The hair on the back of his neck rose, his blood running cold. _Rufus_…

Rude was right behind him, gun drawn. They flanked the door, Tseng using the edge of his boot to push the door open. Rude slipped in first, clearing the front hallway, making his way into the living room. Tseng was close behind him, trying to analyze what he saw. Nothing else was disturbed in his house, except the forced entry on the front door. Which meant…Rufus had to be close to the door when whoever broke in. Sasha…

"Rufus isn't here." Three words Tseng didn't want to hear.

"Bedrooms look fine, kitchen, bathroom, living room…only sign of disorder is the front door." Rude said, coming to stand beside Tseng.

"Rufus wouldn't have gone with her willingly." Tseng spoke more to himself, running through possible scenarios in his mind. Somehow, she managed to draw his attention to the door, knowing he was there, broke in and incapacitated him? It didn't make any sense to him. How did she know where he lived even?

Rude had Reno on the line, filling him in on. Tseng felt like his heart had been ripped out of his chest. If Sasha had hurt him, or _worse_… he was numb. She would pay. Heidegger would be a massage in comparison to what he would do to her.

"Reno and Gomez know. Reno's on his way over, so let's hold tight til he gets here. Sir?" Tseng had been standing by the front door, clenching and unclenching his fists. Rude touched his shoulder lightly. What was that? Reno coming over…

"Yes, that's fine. We'll wait." Tseng felt the muscle jump in his jaw. He was so close to crossing that line, the one where he would be blinded with rage, cold with hatred.

_Not_ _yet_.

Rufus needed him to think. Needed to analyze. The anger, the want to kill…it had to come after, when he finally confronted Sasha and her henchmen. Taking a deep breath, Tseng willed his heart to slow, his concentration to settle back in. He tried to think about Sasha, about where she disappeared to after being let go from Shinra. They had kept tabs on her for close to a year after she lost her job, just incase she tried some form of retaliation. It had been several years since then, and they never anticipated _this._

Reno had been fast. Weapon drawn, he appeared around the corner of the splinted door, bright eyes calculating what had gone on. Tseng ignored him as he went to Rude's side, conversing with him quietly.

Rufus was unarmed, and judging from how ferociously they had gone after him, from the Conference Center to attacking the Turks, they wanted to end this. He didn't have long – less than a day, that was certain. They wouldn't keep Rufus alive until the morning…a cold chill ran up Tseng's spine, his vision sharpening and his mouth dry. Just a few hours, and then it would be over – one way or another.

"Tseng." Reno was by his side, just as sharp, focused. Tseng turned his attention to him.

"What is it?"

"I think I have a lead on Sasha." Tseng faced him, crossing his arms across his chest. Rude stepped closer. No doubt Reno had all ears on him.

"Did some pretty illegal things to get it though, so I hope you'll just overlook it."

"Go on."

"Seems she's been paying taxes on two properties. Rufus could be at either of them. I printed coordinates out." Reno handed a folded paper over. Tseng nearly tore it open in his haste, eyes scanning the two addresses.

Both were under the plate, as to be expected. Sasha hadn't been making a considerable income since having been booted from Shinra, that evident especially in the location of the properties.

"One is in a cleaner part of the slums," Tseng started.

"And one is in the grittier. I grew up in that part. I know it well." Reno finished, gazing steadily into Tseng's eyes. He could see the request plain and simple – that was Reno's end of town, he had a feel for the area.

"I'll go with you. Rude, you check out this first address. I don't expect they'll be anything there, but I'd be stupid not to have someone check it out."

"Oh, and one other thing," Reno interjected. "There aren't six SOLDIERs. There's _seven_."

Good god, could things more complicated?

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

"You can tell you're not a professional by how quickly you react to heated words." Rufus drawled on, trying to distract her as he found a way to squirm out of the cuffs. It was hard work, and it hurt like hell. It seemed to be working though – the bed rail he was secured to was slowly coming loose.

"If you're trying to psycho-analyze me, you can stop. I'm not falling for it."

"I'm just surprised you have the audacity to take on the world's biggest, most powerful company and actually dream _you'll get away with it_. I don't know which weighs more – your balls or your stupidity." Rufus waited for her to stand in rage and come hit him again. She seemed to love this power-trip, but her skin was much thinner than he had first thought.

She did stand, nostrils flaring, Rufus deciding to take a chance and laugh. Whatever. If the bitch wanted to hit him again, so be it. At least it kept him alive longer.

"See? You're doing it again. Honey, if you want to be successful, you gotta put up with all the shit that's thrown at you."

"Shut the fuck up Rufus."

"You wouldn't even last a fucking day in the office. What? You're just going to hit everyone that says something derogatory about you? I can see why my father got rid of you – you're too goddamned _weak_."

Sasha wanted to hit him very badly. Rufus could see the muscles in her arms and neck tensed, her fists shaking. Her face was a remarkable shade of red – it was probably taking all of her effort to stay in place.

"I am capable of keeping my temper _asshole_. Don't view this as any sort of surrender – you'll be getting what you deserve soon enough."

"You underestimate everything to do with this company." Rufus spat at her, pulling sharply at the rail. Make her think he was struggling to get to her, when he was really just trying to loosen it up a bit.

"It doesn't matter if I am alive or dead – my Turks will come for you. Don't doubt that for a _fucking_ _second_. The only reason you're even winning this pathetic little insecurity game is because you have me chained to a goddamn bed. Leave it to someone like you to need to lock me up to get your way. It seems to be the only way you can think of killing me – all your other options fell apart."

"Insecurity game?" Sasha spoke in a deathly near-whisper.

"Isn't this what it is? You feel like shit because you didn't get your way and you were thrown out on your ass. Your confidence was completely crushed and this is the only way you can think of to feel better and get back on your feet. Normal people go to counseling – you like to kill people. Sounds mighty deranged to me."

"This isn't insecurity, or a _game._ You shouldn't be speaking so carelessly, especially since you're the one chained up. I just have to call out into the hall and your life would be over."

"So why don't you? You are prolonging it long enough that I'm just thinking you're getting cold feet. I would be- what a fucking stupid idea, taking out the President of Shinra."

Baiting her with his upcoming death probably wasn't the best idea, but Rufus was growing tired of this lame-ass cat and mouse charade. The Turks weren't here, he was bound to die before the morning – why wait? Let's just get it over with.

"For someone wanting to live you seem far to eager to die." Sasha remarked after a short silence. She had a small smirk playing at her lips.

"I'm just calling your bluff."

"Oh Rufus, there is no bluff. You'll find that out soon enough."

"Maybe I will, maybe I won't. I guess it all remains to be seen. Right now I'm just getting smacked around by an uptight bitch who clearly likes to play the dominatrix. Too bad you weren't wearing some sexy leather- it would at least make the boredom bearable."

She wanted to hurt him, but she was exercising some amazing restraint. Perhaps the 'insecure' word or the mention of her lack of restraint and thin skin made her think twice about her actions. While it was good for now, Rufus knew he was only compounding his pain for later. Sasha would kill him if Tseng didn't come fast, and she would do it in the most painful way she knew how.

"You're going to wish you'd never been born." She seethed, fists clenched tight again. Rufus rolled his eyes.

"Please honey, I hear that everyday. I'm the President of the _goddamn world_. Not everyone can be my friend." Tseng had to come fast. Rufus knew his time was running out.


	12. Chapter 12

**Bullet Catchers**

**By Jazzbo22**

An assassination attempt leaves Rufus questioning his vulnerability. The Turks struggle to keep the President out of harm's way, but is it enough?

TsengxRufus, RudexReno, yaoi, angst

A/N: Many heartfelt apologies for making you wait several months for this next installment. As some of you may know, I was finishing the last year of a very difficult and time consuming degree. It is done now, woo! And I have a Bachelor's. I am considering going for a Master's in the fall, but I won't bore you with the details right now. I merely want to say THANK YOU for reading up til now, and your inspiring interest in my writing! It is so exciting for me that ALL OF YOU are excited to see what happens next. Stay tuned as this starts to wrap up, as I have some ideas floating around for future fics I would love to share. I am thinking of putting up a blog/deviant art account to showcase some art and stories - does that interest any of you? ANYWAYS! Let's get on to the reading!

ALSO (sorry, I promise to be quiet soon) it has come to my attention after reading this through online that my page breaks have been erased. I think. So I will get on correcting that as soon as I can. I hope it doesn't make the reading of this too hard as it switches scenes.

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Chapter Twelve

The slums were the shit pile of the world. Rude couldn't imagine a worse place to live on earth. To think that Reno came from there – _worse_ even. It was disgusting. If you were born into the slums, chances were you'd stay there until you die. And death came early in a place like this – Reno was in his mid-twenties, and if he had stayed, he wouldn't have lived to see sixteen.

Rude was in an area dubbed the 'classy slums'. The whores could afford to wear tight leather skirts, the drug lords weren't out in the open. Children were allowed to play on the streets. No parts in the slums were safe, but here were the lesser of two evils.

Maneuvering the Mercedes through narrow streets, Rude drew his attention back to what put him there in the first place. Disposing of Heidegger was just business – he had been his boss since Rude first started with Shinra, and so because of that he had wondered if he'd feel any sadness in his death. Strangely enough, all he felt was emptiness. Tseng had always been the true leader of the Turks, and since Heidegger dared to mess with that, he had deserved what came to him.

Sasha Maksim though. A name he had forgotten, she meant nothing. She was as insignificant as the secretaries that part-timed with Shinra. Rude would've bet on his life that she didn't have the guts or the brains to head this operation. That was probably the main reason she had gotten so far in her efforts – no one would've ever thought she was capable of such a thing. The SOLDIERs working with her were a frightening prospect, since they were all mako-enhanced, disgraced goons, but they couldn't stop bullets. You could drop them. The problem was – three injured Turks against seven healthy SOLDIERs. The odds weren't in their favour. It would be nice to have some cure materia handy.

Rude was glad for the Mercedes. People moved out of the way for him. He doubted that Sasha would be where he was headed, but it was worth looking. But if he was wrong, and she was actually there…Rufus really needed them right now. Rude wouldn't be able to wait until Tseng and Reno arrived, he would have to go in on his own.

Usually fear didn't come to him, but right now he had an icy ball in his stomach. He was confident of his abilities, considering he was one of the best fighters in Shinra, but against seven SOLDIERs? Rude would get his ass handed to him.

The place that Reno had marked off was a block away. If the shit was going to hit the fan, Rude could at the very least thank his lucky stars he had spent some extra time with Reno. It was not the ideal situation – ideal would've meant hours satisfying himself with the aggravating, foul-mouthed, _expert-mouthed_ redhead, but he would take what he could get. _If _this was the end. That icy ball felt heavier now. Suddenly his life up til now felt too short. Damn, he wanted to _live_.

Reality check. Rude mentally smacked himself. He needed to go into this mission with a clear mind. He was already getting fatal, whereas Rufus, who was younger than him, and currently a _hostage_, might be bleeding out his last breath.

Parking the Mercedes in an alley, Rude stepped out, blending with the shadows. He glided effortlessly along the back roads, closing the distance between himself and his destination. He left the car far enough away that if Sasha had a patrol out, they wouldn't see it. He hoped.

The house was dark. Rude didn't have a clear view into the windows, but he sensed no movement. They wouldn't be upstairs conducting their business though, with the curtains wide open. Sasha had shown amazing discretion up until now, and she wouldn't begin to broadcast Rufus' whereabouts.

Scaling the side of the small building, he tried the back door. Locked. No problem though. The locks on slum houses were far less advanced than the one he and Tseng jimmied on Heidegger's place. With the flick of a wrist, the door opened with a mild _creak_. Gun ready, Rude cleared the door and slunk low into the darkness, large body as graceful as a feline.

No sounds at all. Not even hushed voices. Rude cleared the top floor as a safety precaution. It appeared that this was Sasha's permanent residence. Womanly things were scattered along the bathroom counter – perfumes, hairbrushes, make-up compacts – and lingerie littered her bedroom floor. From the looks of things, she made sure not to leave a trace of her menacing plans around. No blueprints, no discriminating phone numbers or private envelopes. This was not a place of private business for her. It was just a home.

Making quick work of the main floor, Rude took the stairs to the basement as quietly and quickly as possible. His calf screamed in protest, Rude clenching his teeth to manage the pain. He could worry about a relaxed recovery later – now was not the time to focus on his injuries.

Eyes adjusting to the poor lighting, he saw nothing of interest. No one was home. Which meant…

Reno and Tseng were possibly walking into the lions den. The fearless Turk leader, with a hole in his shoulder, plus a number of scratches and bruises, and Reno, who still had a gash in his forehead. God, neither one was healthy enough to be on a mission like this.

Rufus could be worse, at this point. And he was the most important person. Rude knew, when he first joined the Turks, that he had to be ready to sacrifice his life for the President's safety. Well, here they all were now, and the President needed them. They had a job to do.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sasha was waiting for something specific, Rufus had realized. If she wanted him dead immediately, it would've happened already. What she was waiting for – he couldn't figure it out yet. It seemed unlikely she was waiting for anyone's approval. After talking with her, _if you could call it that_, Rufus knew without a doubt that she was spearheading this entire thing. She was working for herself. She wasn't waiting for the 'O.K.' from a higher up.

So what was it then? Maybe she wanted to broadcast his assassination on national – _international_ news. That would most certainly strike a crippling fear into the people's hearts. Someone taking out the President of the largest and most powerful company in the world – it would guarantee that she had everyone's attention, and make it easier for her to declare herself the new President. No one would argue, they'd be too _afraid_.

Sasha had left the room for several minutes now, and Rufus wished she would come back. He wanted to know what she was up to. When she was with him, she was a nuisance, smacking him around and talking shit. But now that she was gone…she was dangerous. No second guessing that. At least when she was with him she wasn't talking to the men just outside the room. Very angry, very lethal men.

The good thing in having her gone was it left Rufus to consider his escape. He grabbed the chain of the handcuffs to stop them from clattering against the steel rail of the bed frame. He didn't want Sasha – or worse, one of her SOLDIER shitheads storming into the room to see what the noise was about.

Gripping the rail tightly, he yanked it hard. Slight movement, nothing more. But something was better than nothing, and he wasn't about to sit around waiting for help. Every second counted. Again he pulled, the pipe showing minimal give.

After this, he was going to be turned off bondage for awhile. Not that he was big on bondage to begin with, but this definitely soured his tastes. Well, if Tseng had him tied up, that could be an entirely different story. Or vice versa.

_Better thoughts for a better time_. Right now Rufus couldn't distract himself, even though he'd like nothing more than to be back in Tseng's apartment, preferably in his _bed_. After those short kisses, he longed for something more, and he was not about to die before he got what he wanted. All his life he'd been cheated out of himself, the true things he wanted, what he felt – he wasn't going to let that revenge-seeking _bitch_ take his life as well. She thought she'd been put in the shitter – she should've lived _his _life. At least she had a youth, a choice in career, a choice in who she loved. She wasn't confined the way he had been, polished into a perfect heir of Shinra.

Fuck _her_. Sasha wasn't going to take the one thing that was ultimately his own – his goddamn _life_. Stupid bitch was going to feel his wrath, as soon as he could free himself. Pulling again, Rufus felt his heart settle into a new determination. They were going to try to kill him, and he was going to fight. Not lie down and take it like a weakling.

The bar was moving, much to Rufus' pleasure. It wasn't a lot, but it was enough to give him hope. If Sasha stayed away for a few more minutes, he could get out of the bed, hide behind the door, and choke her with the chain of the 'cuffs. Hopefully she would go down quickly.

When she was in the room before, she had only been armed with brass knuckles, no gun. She _could_ be a good shot, but she wouldn't be as good as him. If he could get his hands on a gun, he'd be fine. _If_ he could. The men in the hallway could be armed, and he might be able to take one down, but the other would be on him in an instant. That was, if there were only two SOLDIERs outside. There could be _more_.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Tseng slipped his PHS back into his blazer, eyes straight ahead. Reno glanced at him from behind the wheel.

"It's us."

"It's us."

Rude had just called, informing Tseng that the house was empty. Which meant that both he and Reno were heading right into the hotspot. Rude would be a good ten minutes behind them. And as Tseng found after years in the profession – ten seconds is a damn long time for shit to go down, much less ten _minutes_.

"Boss, it's going to get ugly. Seven fucking ex-SOLDIERs, all with a hate-on for Shinra."

"Then we'll have to be especially careful." Tseng was all too aware of the risk they were taking. If Sasha knew anything, and it seemed she did, she would make sure the Turks had to cut down her meat wall of SOLDIERs before reaching her and Rufus. Sasha was not a fighter herself, but give anyone a gun or a knife, and they were _deadly_. She could cut Rufus right open before Tseng had a chance to reach him. That was, if he managed to take down her bodyguards. Two against _seven_. Tseng didn't want to think about the outcome.

"We should walk from here." Reno pulled over, concealing the car between rundown shacks. They were in one of the most gritty, dangerous neighbourhoods of the slums. Here the people were too fucked out of their mind on drugs to care about the symbolic Mercedes or the navy uniforms. They needed gil to support their fix. Nothing else mattered. Tseng and Reno had to be especially careful. He wasn't nervous of muggers – a quick _crack_ of the wrist and they'd run screaming, but neither of them could afford drawing attention to themselves. From here on in, they had to be quiet, be the _predators._

Rufus could be dying, or worse, gone already. He needed his Turks to continue on with extreme discretion. Every movement mattered. Every second counted.

Drawing his pistol, Reno right behind him, Tseng crept along, the target within eyesight. The place looked like a shithole from far away, Tseng could only imagine the interior. Pausing to take cover behind a dilapidated building, Tseng kept his eye trained on the door. With a quick flick of his finger, Reno covered his right. They both hovered, eyes focused on the shack and surrounding area.

"Movement, coming around the front." Reno whispered, motioning with his gun. Tseng saw him too – he was one of the faces Reno had forwarded along. An ex-SOLDIER who should've been in prison, but had been freed. He was dressed like a usual slum-dweller, probably meant to throw them off their trail.

"And he's wearing Kevlar. _Wow_. I actually have to aim. What do you want to do Tseng? Want me to drop him?" Tseng watched. There was movement inside the building too. Reno could take him out, his aim was straight and steady, but then the rest of them inside would see.

"We need a concealed angle. They can't see or know we're here." Tseng whispered back. He was watching intently – this could be done. They just needed to proceed with caution. Reno nodded slightly.

Then Tseng saw it.

"I'm going to move up, keep your eye on the target. When I give you the sign, finish him." Without looking for confirmation, Tseng moved forward, blending seamlessly into the shadows, working his way closer.

It had been so long since he had done field work like this, he had begun to forget what it felt like. His exterior was cool, concentrated, but inside his heart pounded, his ears drummed. He had started to perspire lightly, small beads forming along his dark brow. His hands were steady though, as was his sharp eye. Tseng was a trained professional, a deadly assassin. That SOLDIER would never see him coming.

Molding himself against the building, Tseng stayed low, under the windows. Just to know he was merely feet from Rufus sent a chill up his spine. He hoped that the young President was still alive and well- just thinking about it made his blood run cold. If they hurt him…

He couldn't dwell on the what ifs. He just had to concentrate on the now, and currently that meant taking out the outdoor patrol. Turning briefly, he caught Reno's eye. _Showtime_.

Surging forward, still keeping low, he rounded the corner, inches from the ex-SOLDIER. Tseng briefly heard the parting of air before the bullet struck inbetween the eyes of the con. He caught the man with grace before pulling his body against a far wall. Never saw it coming. No one had seen or heard anything.

One down, six, with the exception of Sasha, to go.

Reno followed the same path as Tseng, snaking along clutter and taking cover against buildings. Crouching against their destination, Reno smirked darkly.

"Here we go."

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Rufus heard Sasha's voice only moments before she reappeared again. Lucky too – if she had seen what he was doing, she'd beat the shit out of him. Or kill him. He had been so _close _though. The rail had moved substantially. Rufus hoped she wouldn't notice. He just had to keep her engaged, keep the attention on his face, and hope that her eyes didn't wander too much.

"You should know how pathetic you look. It's sad really." She laughed humourlessly. Rufus gave her his best arrogant smirk.

"You should know how _pathetic _you _are._" She glared, fists tightening again. And she thought she could run the company…how? Her temper was on a short leash, all he had to do was tug slightly and she was ready to explode.

"Every minute my Turks get closer and closer to finding you. You don't stand a chance." Keep her focused on him. Rufus willed her eyes to lock with his. So far, so good. She gave him her version of an arrogant smirk. Or whatever that was.

"I'm counting on it. I'm looking forward to having them watch as I slit your godforsaken throat and do away with Shinra blood forever." Was that what she was waiting for? Waiting until Tseng, Reno, and Rude came? Rufus felt eerily cold.

"And don't think I don't know about their injuries. I _made_ it happen. Would've preferred that they were already dead, but that can wait until I finish with _you_. Or, would you like to see their throats slit, knowing that by saving you they threw their lives away? Would that be better?" She was serious. Rufus looked for a waver in her stare, or a small fidget – nothing. She really was a stone-cold bitch.

"You _fuck_." Rufus spat, feeling that chill run straight to his bones. He couldn't watch Tseng die. She smiled, coming closer.

"What, did I hit something there? Nerves of steel President Shinra reacts strongly to that. Don't you?" She ran her hand up the side of Rufus' abused face. He tried to pull away, but she gripped him tighter.

"Don't like the idea of me wasting your precious Turks? Or one in particular? I don't care much for the redhead myself, he has 'used' written all over him. Probably slutted himself out before coming to Shinra anyways. The bald one is pretty cute, can't see him being your type though. You _were_ living with Tseng. You like that one, don't you? He is quite a catch, a very handsome, strong man. You like getting fucked by that? Does he take you rough, or is he gentle?"

Rufus felt his blood boil over. Sasha wanted this, she wanted a rise out of him. He'd be damned if he was going to give it to her.

"I suppose you'd really like to know, considering you'd never be able to handle anything up your tight ass except my father's small dick. Did that feel good? It sure must've hurt when he threw you out on your ass, that you weren't even good enough for an obese man who has to pop pills to get it up."

Rufus watched with satisfaction as her features darkened, knowing that he'd twisted the knife a little deeper. She wanted to hurt him? He could give it right back.

"You are _dead_." She seethed, standing briskly. Rufus could imagine it took all of her strength not to choke him right there.

Turning to regard him, her eyes wandered to the headboard. To the horribly out-of-place rail…maybe she didn't see it.

"What the fuck?" Sasha had seen it. Shit, shit, shit. Now or never. Pulling hard, his cuffed hands slipped free, the crack of the rail echoing through the room. It seemed much louder than it should've been. Disregarding it, knowing he only had seconds to spare, Rufus was up quickly. Her eyes widened significantly, and she clambered to put some space between them.

"Oh my god…" Then Rufus realized why the railing had been so loud. It wasn't the headboard that cracked, it was a window. He heard the sound of shattering glass from outside the room, combined with the startled shouts of the ex-SOLDIERs. The Turks, _his _Turks had finally come.

"You're going down, you crazy bitch."


	13. Chapter 13

**Bullet Catchers**

**By Jazzbo22**

**Jazzbo22 hotmail . com**

An assassination attempt leaves Rufus questioning his vulnerability. The Turks struggle to keep the President out of harm's way, but is it enough?

TsengxRufus, RudexReno, yaoi, angst, violence

A/N: Firstly, thank you all so much for the lovely reviews. I'm glad you guys are sticking with this! I've had a ton of fun writing this fic so far, so I'm really happy you are enjoying it! Anyways, you'll never guess what happened to me this week… right after I posted my last chapter, I was surfing the web, and then I get one of those, 'alert, you have x number of infected files! Press OK to clean them!'…obviously a scam. I ain't no spring chicken to the internet, I know how these things work. But…it just keeps popping up, and it struck me as uber sketchy. I am pretty computer illiterate (lessee, I know how to check my email, browse the web, um, that's about it) but my brother is a pro, so naturally I go running to him.

"My computer has herpes!" I cry. Well! He has a look at it, determines that this thing has DOWNLOADED onto my computer without me ever clicking on anything, and if you try and get a program to …cleanse, it, or whatever you do to viruses…it doesn't recognize it. You can't do anything. Here I thought it was herpes for computers, but he informs me it's so much worse than that.

"I'm afraid your computer has full blown aids." Not what I want to hear! We had to wipe it. However! I was able to back everything up (thank god for external harddrives!) so it was a lesson learned, and I didn't have to lose anything in the disaster! We resurrected my computer into something I feel is much better! Except now it makes a high pitched noise (it's a 2006 laptop, so it probably needs to be upgraded anyways). As my brother so cheerily commented, "Now your computer just has a heart problem!". One day, when I'm not unemployed, I will buy a desktop. One day.

Lesson here people – back your shit up! Because there are viruses hiding in images as unsketchtastic as Renoir paintings. Yup, that's what I was looking at. Nerd bag.

Let's get onto the story now! I'm long-winded, apologies! (as always, please review!)

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**Chapter Thirteen**

Something about going into battle, knowing your life could end any moment was strangely _invigorating_. Time slowed down substantially – seconds dragged on, concentration honed to the point where the only sounds heard were the beating of a too-fast heart and deep breaths. Reno _loved_ it. This was what attracted him to the Turks in the first place. This was what he was _good _at. Giving off the appearance of a sloppy, disobedient Shinra employee served him very well- he was constantly underestimated by his opponents.

The sounds around him were distant to his ears. The SOLDIER freaks were yelling, clearly surprised and paying for it. Here they were prepared for a sneak attack, aware of the injuries the Turks had suffered and assumed they'd go in covert. At least, from their slouched positions it looked that way. Tseng had been the one to push for a flash and bang entrance – they would've never expected the Turk leader to have some heavy brass balls. Reno was proud to serve under him.

For all that time slowed down, Reno had to move fast. He could barely keep up with the activity around him. There were four SOLDIERs in clear view, which meant the other two would be close by. Sasha and Rufus were nowhere to be seen, but if they were in the building, they would know the cavalry had arrived.

It was hard to see exactly what was going on. Survival instinct and years of training were playing a key part. Reno aimed, hand steady, pulling the trigger as fast as he could. These men were fast, they were big, but they weren't capable of dodging bullets. Like the guard stationed outside, each of them sported the latest in Kevlar design. Bloody fuck.

His victim howled as bullets connected with thighs. Yeah, motherfucker, didn't see _that_ one coming, did ya? Reno knew he would only be immobilized for moments – SOLDIERs were made to put up with a _whole goddamn lot – _look at Sephiroth. Holy _shit_.

While the one was down, Reno rolled across the floor, kicking his leg out. To keep the upper hand, he had to increase his movement. Stationary equalled dead. Tripping a big brute of a man, he didn't hesitate in pressing the nozzle of his gun against his forehead, deftly pulling the trigger. The moment these disgraced shitbags decided to go against the President, they were dead men walking.

"Reno!" He almost caught the deadly looking knife in the fucking _neck_. This guy again…the same one that nearly took off his head at the meeting that Falcon shit had set up. Last time Rude had his ass, and now Tseng. That shithead was fast, quiet, and too strong. Snarling, Reno tried to maneuver out of the way, but the SOLDIER had the advantage.

He had been in prime position to take out the previous SOLDIER, but the knife-wielding madman had the upper hand on _him. _Nearly tripping over himself, Reno tried to scramble up on his feet, all while dodging the broad swings of the blade. Tseng was not in position to save his ass right now, a quick glance showed. The Wutaian was caught up in his own high-paced, equally dangerous battle. He knew going in he would be responsible for watching his own back, but he had hoped he could assist Tseng where necessary – he had a gash in his head, but Tseng still had that bullet wound, among various other injuries. The car bomb, complete with malnutrition and sleep deprivation would've taken their toll.

Reno had two options – either let the fuck back him up against the wall, and that meant going through the SOLDIER he had shot in the legs, or…

God, neither option was good. Do or die though, and he knew he wouldn't be able to take on two SOLDIERs at once, not in such proximity. Watching the blade, he began to breathe in unison with each attack. One swing, two, three –

Maybe he had a death wish, or maybe he just wanted the runner-up award for ballsiest Turk out there, because he lunged right at the SOLDIER, teeth bared and _clearly _feral. The dumbass should've remembered the golden rule in combat – _expect the unexpected_ – Reno knowing without a doubt this was _unexpected_. Unsnapping the nightstick from his belt, he brought it right up to the man's groin, letting loose a violent electrical jolt.

A sharp sting in his arm was the only indication he'd been nicked in his offense. It couldn't be too deep, considering the angle. The SOLDIER in front of him suffered the worst, the electrical current frying his brain. Reno wasn't packing any punches. All these motherfuckers were going _down._

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Tseng had little patience for this brigade. He needed to know where Rufus was. He was highly aware of each second that passed, and how _badly_ he wanted to _see_ the young man.

– _One _– the butt of his pistol connecting with a nose, a satisfying crunch, -_Two_ – shoulder connecting with chest, sending the SOLDIER off balance, - _Three_- gun underneath chin, perfect angle, -_Four_- pull the goddamn trigger. Clockwork.

In the corner of his eye, he saw the glint of a vicious blade, ducking involuntarily. It was not for him though. Quickly scanning the room, he spotted the tousle of red hair, his subordinate unaware of the danger behind him.

"Reno!" He called out, narrowly missing the fist aimed straight for his jaw. Reno had looked up, just in time. Concentrating on his own battle, Tseng noticed the increase in men. When they first entered, there had been only four SOLDIERs present. Now there were five. Two dead, one incapacitated, the SOLDIER with the knife, and Tseng's new sparring partner.

Bringing his pistol in front, Tseng was unprepared for the SOLDIER to charge, slamming him against the wall. Hearing the gun clatter to the floor, his attacker kicked it out of the way before bringing a knee up into Tseng's gut.

Shit, shit, _shit_. Tseng felt the air leave his lungs in a _whoosh_, his abdomen screaming with pain. Doubling over, he couldn't avoid the knee coming up against the side of his head. The room spun as he hit the ground, dark spots dancing in his vision. A blur of red and navy soared overtop, his ears picking up Reno's distinct growl.

"_Fuckface_!"

Shaking away the dizziness, Tseng rushed forward, feeling unbridled rage bubbling forth. He needed to contain himself. Rufus needed him to have a clear mind. _He_ needed to have a clear mind, _damnit_. This had to end as quickly as possible – Sasha and Rufus were nowhere in sight, and there was still a SOLDIER unaccounted for.

Reno was doing a good job distracting, but neither could get close. This SOLDIER hadn't been surprised, like the others. By the time he had jumped into the fight, he had known _who_ he was fighting. Tseng tried to reach his pistol, but that meant finding a way behind the livid, very dangerous fighter. It wasn't possible.

"Come 'ere, I need a good warm-up." The SOLDIER grinned maliciously. Tseng had felt the impact of his knee, but on closer inspection he noticed some form of brass knuckles. Brass knuckles, with _spikes._ Good lord. Reno was on his right, bleeding from a gash in his upper arm. Tseng didn't have enough time to inspect, but it didn't appear serious. For all he knew, it _could_ be, but he wouldn't hear about it until far later. The Turks were hand chosen, skilled in many areas, and if Reno had been missing a leg, he still wouldn't make it Tseng's problem.

Sweltering with thinly veiled fury, Tseng finally chose to embrace it. In the back of his mind he could feel his body failing – the lack of food and sleep, the injuries he had sustained, the worry he felt for Rufus - he wouldn't be able to go on for much longer . Adrenaline would be his last saviour. Eyes narrowing, he reached into the deepest, darkest places of his soul, nearly overwhelmed by the intensity of it all. He knew he should be frightened, but it also felt good_._ _Too good_.

Roaring, Tseng surged forward, uncharacteristically furious. He was going to end it _all_. This whole debacle would be finished in a matter of minutes, even if he had to tear the place down in search of Sasha and Rufus.

"You're _mine_." Tseng snarled, feeling Reno's presence not far behind him. The SOLDIER smirked, almost too eagerly.

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Sasha was not a fighter. Rufus had known the moment he first laid eyes on her. Rude was a fighter, that Avalanche slut, Tina or Tifa- she was a fighter. Sasha lacked the physical tributes. When you looked at someone trained in hand to hand combat, there was an immediate difference. First clue – the arms. Rude's arms were large and muscular, and not from lengthy hours spent in a gym. Those were fighter's arms built from his years in the streets. That Avalanche girl was the same. SOLDIERs were trained in hand to hand combat in a very similar way. Sasha probably worked out in the air-conditioned gym environment, and 'working out' probably included only a treadmill.

"Get away from me!" She snapped, backing away with each step Rufus took. He grinned darkly.

"You wanted me here, and now you don't? _Sasha_, _Sasha_. Make up your mind." Truthfully, he was nervous for his Turks. Since the initial break-in, the noise volume and the activity outside the door hadn't quieted. In fact, it had only gotten _worse_. Each time a guttural voice screamed in agony, the hairs on Rufus' neck stood on end. He hoped those were the cries of the SOLDIERs.

"I _hate_ you! I hated your father! You should've died alongside him!"

"Your words sting." He chuckled sarcastically. "I suppose that words are the only thing you have _left_. It must be hard, not having the security of your shameful convicts to protect you. You were so _close _too, but you got hit with the same thing you hate me for – _greed_, was it? Yes. You wanted to have it all go _your_ way, kill my Turks before killing me. You couldn't allow for the possibility that _my_ Turks, no matter how many injuries they sustain – will always get the job done. _Always_."

Rufus advanced, aware that he still had the 'cuffs on, and that he was without a weapon. Sasha had her brass knuckles, but now that he was freed from the bed, she wouldn't be able to land a decent hit. Feeling very much like a panther cornering a small mouse, Rufus revelled in her fright. The whole episode started when she tried to have him publicly assassinated – _my_, how the tables have turned. Now that he had her before him, he wasn't sure just how he wanted to end it. Slow and painful? Or bring her in and have _her_ publicly executed?

Sasha abruptly smirked, the only telltale sign Rufus had before noticing the fast presence behind him. Dropping to the ground, he snapped a look over his shoulder while pivoting out of the way. One of the SOLDIERs had managed to slip into the room undetected, and was now coming straight for him. Grunting, he pushed off with his feet, knowing movement would be the only thing that saved him. Somewhere out in the other room, his Turks were being held up by the other SOLDIERs, and now he had to go against one himself. Handcuffed. Oh, and keep an eye on that Sasha bitch as _well_.

Purposely, he put himself in front of the door. Other than a window, there were no other ways in or out. Sasha would not be able to escape. Quickly scanning the SOLDIER, it appeared the only weapon he carried was a pistol. For all that they supposedly met with weapons dealers, they weren't packing a lot of heat. It could've been a bluff – that Falcon kid hadn't been legit – but Rufus had been expecting a little more.

"Kill him, _kill him_!" Sasha screeched, jumping up and down. It would've been completely ridiculous, except her loyal guard dog was coming straight for him. Breathing rapidly, Rufus evaluated his next move. He had nowhere to go, the SOLDIER would pin him unless he ran out into the hall…if he did that, the rest of the SOLDIERs would kill him immediately. Staying inside the small room was his best bet.

Opting to dive to his left, he was unable to avoid the large, overly muscular convict. The SOLDIER grabbed him by his jacket, slamming him to the ground. _Hard._ Rufus ground his teeth to keep from crying out. There was absolutely no way in _hell_ he'd give Sasha the satisfaction of hearing his pain. He'd die before that happened.

Squirming underneath the heavy man, Rufus did everything in his power to get away. Kneeing him repeatedly in the ribs, the SOLDIER shifted far enough that Rufus was able to roll out from under him. Quickly climbing to his feet, he kicked the downed man in the ribs.

The SOLDIER reached out, grabbed his ankle and yanked him to the ground. Rufus landed unceremoniously on the concrete, grunting as he lost his balance and fell straight back. Rolling, he tried to avoid the hands reaching for him, opting to put as much distance between them as possible. Sasha was yelling something in the corner of the room, screeching and still _jumping_. Without a doubt, she was certifiably _insane._ The SOLDIER climbed to his feet, giving Rufus enough time to scoot against the wall and use it to help stand.

No amount of time would be enough though – the ex-SOLDIER was far too fast for Rufus. A fist was coming straight for his face – knowing he couldn't avoid it, he turned his head enough so it clipped his jaw instead of breaking his nose.

It hurt like a _son of a bitch_. Sasha had pounded him enough with her brass knuckles, but this guy was all muscle. Her punches felt like a massage in comparison. Rufus could taste the metallic tang of blood, knowing a second hit would result in a broken jaw. That damn fist was coming straight at him _again_.

In a split second decision, Rufus snapped his head far enough away that the SOLDIER's fist connected with the concrete wall instead. The man howled in agony, affording Rufus enough time to slip out from behind him and scramble towards Sasha. For the majority of the fight, she had looked completely confident. Seeing Rufus coming right at her, the smirk was replaced with shock.

Rufus knew he only had moments, _seconds_. He could hear the blood pumping in his ears, his heart drumming heavily in his chest. He didn't even know if his crazy plan would _work_, but at this point he was willing to try just about _anything_.

Grabbing Sasha, he swung her in front of him just as the SOLDIER pulled the trigger. When he had slipped out from under him before, he had seen the convict reach for the pistol in a knee-jerk reaction to the pain. Apparently he didn't want to play around anymore, it was time to get the job _done_.

Sasha jerked violently as each bullet made impact – Rufus heard her scream as they tore through her. Immediately he was aware of his own pain – white hot, _searing_ pain – as some of the bullets ripped through her, and _into _him.

Gasping, he let her crumple to the ground, preparing to charge the SOLDIER with all that he had left. He had been so _sure_ he could end it…what happened? Growling furiously, his legs gave out on the first step. President Rufus Shinra, the most powerful man on earth, was going to die right at the end of battle. How _undignified_. Glaring, he watched the SOLDIER reload, taking aim. This was it –

Tseng was on him, _howling_. Rufus collapsed to the ground, his last memory of Tseng, tearing the SOLDIER apart like some wild animal.

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Tseng wasn't sure if he and Reno would be able to neutralize the SOLDIER. Already he had been hit twice with spiked brass knuckles, and was left wondering just how many more hits he could _take_. Reno, who had been doing well before, was near the end of the line. In what would've been a finishing move on Tseng, Reno had jumped in the way and taken the full force of the SOLDIER's blow.

"This was disappointingly easy." The SOLDIER laughed, cracking his neck. He rolled his shoulders, sinking low into his knees. Tseng growled, prepared to put up all the fight he had. The SOLDIER jumped forward, but was knocked back suddenly with so much force that he hit the far wall. Rude stood in-between Reno and Tseng, favouring his leg.

"I've got this, go find Rufus."

Tseng had never been so thankful to see the bald Turk in his whole life. Reno could barely stand, but made sure to voice his agreement.

"Yeah, get Rufus."

Before turning, Tseng caught the thankful and seemingly tender look Reno shot Rude. Knowing that they would take care of one another, he scanned the small building. That's when he heard it.

_Gunshots._

His heated blood suddenly ran cold. The sound had been close, so _close._ There was a room at the end of the hallway. Bolting, Tseng was alive with adrenaline, all the injuries he had sustained pushed to the back of his head. He had heard _bloody gunshots._

Bursting through the door, he felt himself becoming hysterical. Rufus had been injured, perhaps fatally. He couldn't tell. From the quick looks of it, he had used Sasha as a shield, but her body couldn't stop _all_ the bullets.

Blind with rage, Tseng attacked the remaining SOLDIER with a new energy. He would rip his _fucking face apart._ Blood splattered the walls as Tseng lost himself, completely bent on destruction. Rufus had collapsed to the floor, possibly dead. _Dead_, after how far they had _come_. They were here now, they had made it, and Rufus had been okay up until _now_.

He could taste salt on his lips, unaware that hot tears were spilling down his face. He would never be able to forgive himself if Rufus lost his life after all of this. _Never._

"Boss! Tseng! _Tseng! Stop!"_ Rude pulled him off the SOLDIER, shaking him.

"He's dead Tseng. He's _gone_."

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	14. Chapter 14

**Bullet Catchers**

**By Jazzbo22**

**Jazzbo22 hotmail . com**

An assassination attempt leaves Rufus questioning his vulnerability. The Turks struggle to keep the President out of harm's way, but is it enough?

TsengxRufus, RudexReno, yaoi, angst LEMON, lemon lemon leeeeeemmmmoooon, graphic graphic graphic – you got it, sexual feeeeeeling! So you don't likey, no readie then

A/N: Suspense, suspense! I promise I'm not cruel though, so I got to work on this chapter IMMEDIATELY after finishing the last. I tell ya, I would throttle anyone who left me hanging too long after writing that last one. It was draining. We are in need of some happiness, eh? Tseng and Rufus are getting very angry at me, for all that I put them through. The sexual tension is just getting to be too much to bear. (and not to mention the evil cliffhangers…)

Thank you for the reviews! I can sense some unhappy faces after finishing that last chapter, but reallllllyyyy – how could I, in my crazy head, kill off Rufus? Ya right. And, just to make you all the more excited to read, they have a veerrrryyyy good time coming at 'em. Just you wait. _And_. _See_!

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**Chapter Fourteen**

The white lights were unforgiving. Tseng raised an arm to shield his eyes, immediately aware of the weight of the limb and the sluggishness in his brain. Alarmed, he tried to sit up, surprised by a hand on his chest forcing him back down.

"Slow down warrior. Stay put." Turning, he was met with the concerned eyes of Randolph Gomez. Struggling, he tried to piece together the facts in his too slow brain. Lifting his hand again, he saw the IV administering whatever drugs were dragging him down.

"_I need to get out of here_."

"You need to shut the hell up and stay where you are, Tseng." Whatever painkillers he was on were _strong_. It was infuriating that he couldn't think, that his motor skills were jeopardized, and that the lights were _too damn bright._

"I'm in the hospital." Tseng stated matter-of-factly. Randolph didn't laugh, just nodded in confirmation.

"You've been out of it for the last couple of hours. I told the doctor not to give you too much morphine, but he was under the impression you'd like it once you came too. Holy shit Tseng, I would've disagreed with him, but after seeing you – you did quite a number on yourself."

He could believe it. His body thrummed with a dull ache, and he didn't even want to take inventory of all the injuries he'd received. However, Randolph chose to inform him.

"Ripped your goddamn shoulder open – _again._ Third time's the charm eh? The doc was mighty displeased seeing that. You have stitches in too many areas to mention, plus an array of cuts and bruises. You needed an IV after all that, not to mention a week's worth of sleep, as well as an indeterminate amount of recovery time. The hospital is debating using a cure on you, just because you are in such bad way."

"I wish they would." Then Tseng remembered. The building, the SOLDIERs, Sasha, _Rufus_…

Lurching forward, Tseng made to swing his legs off the side of the bed. Randolph recoiled involuntarily before reaching forward. He grabbed Tseng's shoulders, forcing him none-too-delicately back. The pain that racked Tseng's body was excruciating. All he showed was a mere wince. Randolph was not convinced.

"Keep your sorry ass in there. You think that hurts – I'm not going to be as gentle with you if you pull a stunt like that again. What's gotten into your head? Do you not know what _condition_ you're _in?_"

"_Rufus_." Tseng didn't mean for it to come out as a plea. Randolph understood immediately.

"President Shinra came here in shaky condition. So did your Turks. I monitored the surgery. He's perfectly fine now, they used cure materia on him - I guess being the President he can order that up. The bullets were already spent, a lot of the blood on him was Sasha's."

"He's alright?" Somehow it didn't seem possible. Rufus had been _covered_ in blood. He had collapsed. He looked…well, _dead_. Though, compared to what happened to Sasha, Tseng realized the bullets that penetrated Rufus had already gone _through_ Sasha. They wouldn't have lodged themselves deep in the skin after she had taken the brunt of the impact.

"Yeah, he was practically in and out. He left with Rude to give a press conference. The rescue mission attracted a lot of public attention."

Rufus was alright. Tseng let out the breath he wasn't aware he was holding. Rude was with him as well, which meant his injuries were more than likely superficial. Reno on the other hand…

"Is Reno still here?" Tseng asked, squinting at Randolph. As much as he disliked being confined to the hospital room bed, Randolph Gomez was one of his most trusted friends. He could respect his wishes, _for the time being_.

"Yes, he is. And as happy about it as you are. He was getting ready to march right out of here, but Rude put him in his place. _Thankfully_. I don't know how you manage all those spirits. They are far too temperamental for me. I can't begin to understand either of them."

"They're alright." Tseng let a ghost of a grin slip forth. His eyelids were so, _so_ heavy, it was hard to keep them open and manage full sentences. Randolph chuckled.

"Sleep while you can, Tseng. You more than deserve it." He didn't want to, but darkness was beckoning. It occurred to him that even though Randolph Gomez was effectively retired, he would make a perfect replacement for Heidegger…

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"No more questions."

"But Mr. President, there has to be more information in regards to the terrorists…" Rufus struggled to keep his exterior cool. In reality, he was worried about Tseng. The last place he wanted to be was in a conference room, surrounded by reporters. Rude had taken up Tseng's usual spot, directly to his left. It was comforting to know he had a Turk by his side, but he wanted _Tseng._

"I told you all I can about the terrorists. They were disgraced ex-SOLDIERs released from prison prematurely. They had a grudge against Shinra Inc - _that's all_." It was best not to release all the details. Reeve had tried to coach him before the conference – he was worried about disclosing too much to the press, but Rufus already had it in mind what he was going to say.

"Thank you all for your time. This has been a very long week for me, and I would like to take the evening off."

"Mr. President!"

"What were the roles of the Turks in this?"

"Where is Heidegger?"

"Does this affect the training regime of the SOLDIERs?"

Rude was right beside him, guiding him out of the conference room with an assertive hand. The reporters kept a healthy distance from the large imposing Turk, instead waiting until Rufus had cleared the room before disassembling. Once in the elevator, Rufus let out a long sigh. As much as his body had been cured with materia, his lack of sleep and the worry in his heart were ongoing. Rude kept his eyes straight ahead.

"Would you like me to escort you back to your estate?"

Rufus pondered it.

"No, the hospital." Did Rude just smile? Or was that his version of a pleased look? Rufus couldn't tell, and at this point he couldn't care. Tseng had been unconscious for too long, and he was desperate to see his steady, probing, incisive gaze, even if it meant baring his soul to the Wutaian. Strangely, it didn't seem to matter as much. They had shared too few, too short kisses, in Rufus' opinion. Tseng was already well aware of how he felt – he didn't need to feel ashamed of himself.

Rufus had taken it upon himself to visit his head Turk before leaving the hospital for Shinra, shocked at the condition he was in. When he himself had awoken from surgery, he demanded to be cured after learning of the injuries he'd sustained. He normally wouldn't resort to materia - after this though, he would gladly take the healing magic and whatever adverse side effects they would have on his body's natural regeneration. In his mind, it was worth it. Once Tseng was conscious, he would persuade him to do the same.

Not for greedy purposes though. _Surely not._ It wasn't as if he couldn't wait for Tseng to heal _normally_…

Rufus nearly scoffed at the idea. He _wouldn't_ be able to wait out the weeks of Tseng's recovery, with only kisses to tide him over. Call him impatient, greedy, selfish- _whatever_. He was hungry for Tseng. He desired, he _longed_. Those few hours he spent in Sasha's run-down home, he waited and wished for Tseng to come to him. Now that the entire _dilemma_ was over, he wasn't going to wait out the next few weeks until Tseng was physically capable of…

Rufus paused. He had fantasized about the _moment, _but now thinking of Tseng's _physical capabilities_, it brought a whole new view into what he _wanted_. Soon it would become a reality, if he had his way.

Feeling uncharacteristic warmth spread through him, Rufus was momentarily floored by the foreign sensation of butterflies in his stomach. Truthfully, he was nervous. Rufus Shinra, _nervous._

Imagining the silky smooth Wutaian, it was hard to smother that feeling. Tseng was a man _always _in control, moreso than Rufus himself. He was the go-to man, as he most recently proved _again_ for the umpteenth time. He was strong, more than capable, and…

Oh god, Rufus tingled all over. His stomach flipped in anticipation.

_Experienced._

Rufus didn't want to imagine Tseng with other lovers, because there _had_ been other lovers. The fact that he was experienced though, that made Rufus excited- especially since he was so _inexperienced _himself. That brought on a stronger sense of nervousness. Rufus tried to push down the negative voice of his father, the whispers of weakness wanting to debilitate him.

_No one wants to serve under a weak leader. Ultimately weakness leads to powerlessness. And as the heir to Shinra Inc, you won't be President unless you possess strength._

Tseng had said he had embraced lovers of both genders, since the respect and attraction led directly to the soul. Gender didn't play as big of a role in his culture. Rufus recalled the disgusted look his mother had given him when she spotted his attraction to other boys. From then on he lived in fear that she would tell his father, and that he would be considered too weak to President the largest, most powerful company in existence.

However, Tseng _embodied_ strength and power. Nothing he did, including the meager amount Rufus knew about his personal life, spoke of weakness. Tseng was not one to be ashamed of his actions. He wasn't ashamed of his feelings, since he had so openly shared them that one afternoon in his apartment. Why would Rufus ever consider letting his attraction run disguised as a weakness? Tseng would never use it against him. The only opinion that mattered to him was the Wutaian's. Granted, he would be the only person ever to be made aware of Rufus' bottled emotions – the press would have a field day if they found out that not only was the President a homosexual, but that he was heavily involved with the Turk leader. _That_ would open up some weaknesses.

Stepping off the elevator, Rufus was accompanied to his vehicle by an overly cautious Rude. No doubt would the copycats start coming out of the woodwork to try their hand at assassinating the President. Shinra, for how important and powerful it was, had its fair share of enemies. Rufus allowed his Turk to scan the premises before motioning him forward. He wanted a week's worth of quiet to make up for time lost. And to enjoy what would soon be his.

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As much as Tseng would've liked for his body to recover naturally, it was more important for him to have his physical strength back and be in top fighting form. He still needed food, he still needed sleep, but he had the reassurance that his body wouldn't fail due to excessive injuries. Reno had also opted for healing magic, and now the two of them stood, silently mulling over the week's events in the hospital foyer.

It had been _one_ week. Somehow after all was said and done, the time felt like it dragged on. It certainly felt long when Rufus had been captured – Tseng didn't want to drift too heavily back in _that_ memory. Now that the President had been recovered and the threat eliminated, Tseng was satisfied. After a week's worth of hell, he could relax. Not _too_ much though, since the calm after the storm held many dangers. Rufus would never be completely safe, due to the nature of his work. It was up to Tseng to worry about it, so the young President wouldn't have to.

Through the glass door, Tseng spotted the unmistakable Mercedes. Throwing a quick glance at Reno, both Turks exited the hospital, moving soundlessly. Later on, when everyone was well rested and back in top shape, Tseng would make sure to give his Turks the recognition they so aptly deserved.

Rude stepped out of the driver's side, clasping a strong hand on Tseng's shoulder in a small display of camaraderie.

"Glad to see you sir." Then he was off. Tseng spared the odd pair a short glance. Rude's car was in the parking lot, the two of them disappearing off to god-knows-where. Randolph Gomez had one thing right about them – there would be no understanding either of them.

Slipping effortlessly behind the wheel if the vehicle, Tseng pulled the door shut, focusing on his passenger. Rufus Shinra was a sight for sore eyes. He knew it too, which was strangely attractive in its own way. Tseng was drawn to his strength – a simpering, insecure man would've bored him instantly. Rufus had his hang-ups, but they didn't weigh down the enormity of his presence. He had done, and continued to do many good things for the empire Jack Shinra had built. Already he had surpassed his father in leadership abilities. Rufus had a unique command over the business, and from day one Tseng had been impressed and fascinated with his confidence and cool manner.

"Glad to see you used the materia." Rufus spoke, his expression impassive. Tseng could not be fooled. The barely conflicting emotions in deep blue eyes were all he needed to see to cement his decision. Rufus wanted him, without a doubt. And he wanted _him_.

"It would've taken too long for my injuries to heal." Starting the engine, he pulled out onto the busy streets, concentrating on anything except the passion boiling hot in his veins. He had waited so _long _for this moment, anticipated it, and now that it was almost upon him he had to remember that _he_ was the one in control. Rufus was not only new to the sensation of emotions- he had seen firsthand the upbringing the young President had endured- but was most assuredly new to experiencing a man.

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"More, more, more, more!" Reno howled, bouncing up and down on the object of many his night's fantasies. A bead of sweat rolled down his back, a clear sign of his exertion. Rude was in no better condition, hands grasping slim white hips tightly. It was their second time in the space of an afternoon, and it didn't look like they'd be slowing down.

With a snarl, Reno yelled his release, clenching around Rude's own straining member. Together, they toppled into nirvana, uncaring of what they sounded like to the neighbours – if they hadn't packed up and _left_ already.

Reno slumped against Rude's chest, satiated – _for the moment_. His libido seemed matched by the bald Turk's, he was satisfied to say. After an indeterminate amount of silence, Reno finally spoke.

"Hey, what do you think Tseng and Rufus are up to?" If his assumptions were correct, he probably already knew the answer. Rude let out a low rumble of a laugh.

"I'd say the same thing we're up to." Yup, his assumptions were correct, if Rude had picked up on it.

"You saw Tseng checking out his ass at that board meeting at Junon?"

"Many times actually. Or how about Rufus watching him walk _all the way down the hall_."

"Oh yeah, yeah. If Tseng had turned around, Rufus would've been caught with his hand in the cookie jar."

Reno prided himself on his observance. Monday morning, he'd be watching Rufus like a hawk for a limp in his stride. Tseng was probably that _good._ Hell, Rude was that good. Maybe he and Rufus would limp along together, the way he and Rude were going at this rate.

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Rufus had wondered why Tseng hadn't bothered to touch him at all in the car, or on the walk up to his apartment. In the back of his head, small voices worried that maybe he had changed his mind, or that the entire thing was a misunderstanding. Tseng was impossible to read when he didn't want anyone to know what was going on in behind his dark eyes.

After _this_, it was clear it was neither a change of heart _or_ a misunderstanding. Tseng was always one to do things exactly as it suited him, insusceptible to pressure or impatience. He was a man in control, demonstrating that characteristic _very_ competently.

Immediately upon entering Tseng's apartment, Rufus had found himself pinned none-too-gently against the wall, his lips crushed in a bruising kiss. The Wutaian was a perfect mix of rough and gentle, lips melding sensually, deepening the kiss. Tongues interlocked, in exploration and in battle. Tseng was exhibiting his dominance not only with his mouth, but the rest of his body as well.

Rufus wasn't sure whether he wanted to give up control completely – it just wasn't his nature. However, deciding this was Tseng's area of expertise, he let his body surrender to the touches and focused on exactly what Tseng was _doing_ to him. After all, he would need to reciprocate later, and he wanted to drive the Turk as wild as he himself was _feeling._

Tseng seemed to have his hands everywhere at once, knowing exactly where to touch to elicit a shiver and breathy gasp. With that talented mouth, he had begun to nibble and lick Rufus' throat, drawing a surprised moan from him. Slightly embarrassed, Rufus bit his lip, hoping to avoid making a spectacle of himself. Tseng's hand had travelled slowly up his shirt, dancing along contoured abs and toying with a nipple. He didn't want to be mewling like a damn cat in heat, but Tseng was making it almost impossible for him to contain his cries.

The Turk rose to full height, apparently satisfied in marking Rufus. Tseng's eyes dropped suggestively to his lip between his teeth, leaning forward to capture it for himself. Pinching his nipple lightly, Rufus gasped, Tseng taking the opportunity to lick and worry his pout.

Rufus felt like he was damn near losing his head with all the conflicting sensations. Tseng's soft lips and slick tongue, accompanied by the sharpness of his teeth and those _fingers_ had his lust in overdrive. If Tseng hadn't had him flat against the wall, Rufus wasn't sure if he'd be able to support himself on wobbly legs.

"I want to hear all your sounds." Tseng growled into his ear, sliding a hand down to cup Rufus' arousal as if to make a point. The action caught him completely off guard, causing Rufus to buck into the solid grip.

"Aah!" He moaned, taken aback by his body's obvious liking. Who would've thought _Mr. President_ would be so responsive? Rufus could hardly believe it himself.

Tseng didn't leave him much time to dwell on his embarrassment or awkwardness. Stripping Rufus of his shirt, he bent down to capture a taut nipple, sucking and biting gently on the nub. Rufus instinctually grabbed a fistful of raven hair, panting as his brain clouded with lust. It was hard to think clearly…

"Nah-_ah_, oh god…" Tseng was insufferably silent, while Rufus felt he was making enough noise for the both of them. That too-delicious mouth was doing wonders, causing his body to respond in a way he had never experienced before. He felt _delirious, _he couldn't think straight. All he wanted was more, more, _more. _

As if sensing what was on his mind, Tseng stopped and loosened his hold. Rufus growled at the loss, but displeasure turned to excitement as the Wutaian directed him hastily towards his bedroom. Sparing a quick glance downward, he noticed with a smirk that it was not only _he_ who was affected by fervor. Tseng, for all that he possessed a cool and controlled manner, was sporting a significant bulge in his dress pants. It probably took all his energy to restrain himself. Tseng was a _warrior_. That meant passion, in war and surely in sex.

If it weren't for Tseng's hands on him, Rufus would've stumbled clumsily into the bedroom and face-planted somewhere near the bed. Next to Tseng, he felt bumbling and inelegant. This apparently wasn't his forte – put him in a boardroom with a hundred voracious reporters, _that_ he could handle effortlessly. In the bedroom, he tried to keep up, grasping at Tseng and hungry for more. The Turk didn't seem to mind his inexperience though – from the looks of things, he welcomed and encouraged Rufus' exploration. He moved far enough away for Rufus to access the buttons of his dress shirt. Sometime during Tseng's hospital stay, his uniform had been replaced from the torn and bloodied garment that had adorned his frame previously.

Rufus didn't care that his hands were shaking. From excitement or from nervousness, the reason was inconsequential. Growling with impatience, the damn buttons _uncooperative_, Rufus took matters into his own hands. Silently promising to replace Tseng's poor dress shirt, he took hold and ripped, buttons flying in every direction.

Tseng's eyebrow shot up, a small smirk betraying his amusement. Rufus muttered almost shyly,

"Fucking buttons weren't coming undone."

It wasn't often that Rufus had the opportunity to see Tseng smile, much less _laugh._ The Wutaian had let out a small chuckle before throwing his newly ruined dress shirt to the side, pulling Rufus to him once again. Whatever he was doing with his mouth, it was exquisite. Rufus hadn't been kissed often – the few women he had brought to bed to satisfy carnal desires had left him empty afterwards. Their kisses meant nothing, he felt nothing.

With Tseng, each kiss added more heat to the fire that was burning Rufus from the inside out. He made him feel…_giddy_, or something like that. He struggled to maintain some sort of order as Tseng slowly drove him mad with hunger.

Jumping, he hadn't been aware of Tseng loosening his pants and dipping a hand in. The firm stroke of his arousal had him moaning like a whore and begging for _anything_. He was at the Wutaian's mercy, and that was fine with him.

"Tseng…" How it was possible for Tseng to remain so quiet while Rufus panted and pleaded was beyond him. Wanting to get some sort of noise, he tried to mimic what was being done to him. He grasped Tseng through his pants, watching his face as his caressed him, using his other hand to unfasten the button and pull down his zipper. Tseng's eyes darkened, his eyebrows knitting together and full lips flattening into a straight line. That was it. Undeterred, Rufus squirmed away from Tseng's warm hand and slipped the waistband of the Turk's pants down. Tseng moved away briefly to kick them aside, looking like an exotic god in the shadows of the room.

He was all hard planes of muscle, wiry in build and long limbed. He moved with the grace of a panther, coming to Rufus and forcing him to lie back. He managed to distract Rufus long enough to shed him of his pants _and _boxers, firm hand stroking once again.

"_Nnn_…" Didn't Rufus have the upper hand, all of two seconds ago? Now Tseng was leading again, no doubt intent on doing things _his_ way. His mouth moved lower and lower…

Rufus held his breath in anticipation, muscles tightening to keep from jerking. Nothing could prepare him for the pleasure of Tseng's mouth though, and when it made contact…

"Oh god! _Tseng_!" Rufus cried out, voice uncharacteristically high. He bucked into a warm, wet mouth, eyes wide. Tseng's strong hand pressed down on his hip, keeping him from thrusting with abandon. The Turk swallowed more and more, Rufus' eyes daring to roll back as the head at his waist bobbed up and down, lips tight against his shaft.

Tseng's tongue wasn't idle – he licked, twirled, and sampled Rufus's essence, humming lightly as he pulled up against the head of his member. Plunging downward, he increased his suction, Rufus' cries morphing into desperate mewing. He didn't care how he looked – surely flushed, definitely sweating, alternating between grasping bedsheets and ebony strands.

Aching with need, Rufus unconsciously spread his legs when a slick, cool digit probed at his entrance. It slowly registered what was happening, and he blushed furiously as his most private area was opened for Tseng's eyes. Knowing he should feel shame for being so desperately wanton, but finding it hard to care when that finger swiped the magic spot inside him, Rufus could only moan. A continuous low reverberation of his vocal chords, he let Tseng know exactly what he craved.

One finger became two, scissoring and stretching him out for what was to come. He willed his body to relax when two became three, almost finding it too hard to bear. Pain became pleasure once again as Tseng knew what to do, what to aim for.

"No more…" Rufus panted, needing to feel Tseng. He wanted the Turk to experience the same passion he was feeling.

"Fuck, Rufus…" Tseng finally growled, shocking Rufus out of his haze. For all that Tseng looked in charge, those two breathy words spoken through clenched teeth revealed his struggle. _He_ was having trouble containing himself.

Rufus watched, entirely fascinated as Tseng generously coated his arousal with lubricant he had procured while pleasing him orally. Sometime around then, maybe. Rufus had been so focused on his own pleasure, he hadn't noticed Tseng retrieve the bottle from his nightstand.

Willing himself to breathe deeply, he waited, wanting Tseng to fill him and satisfy his longing.

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Tseng had been having _too much trouble _keeping himself in check. This was _not_ his first time. It _was_ Rufus', which meant he had to be gentle. But _good god,_ from kissing him to having the young President moaning and panting on his bed, it was hard to keep himself in line. More often than not, he had to pull himself back and remember not to succumb. As much as Rufus might think he wanted Tseng to throw discretion to the wind and take him, it was not the way to go about it. Not _yet_, anyways. When Rufus was a bit more experienced, used to penetration, then they could start thinking about swinging from the chandeliers and being thrown up against the wall.

Rufus had already tried to return the favour, but Tseng had decided long before, in the car actually, that this whole thing would be about pleasing the young leader. Later Rufus could explore Tseng's body and find out what he liked, but this first time would be memorable for Rufus. For Tseng too. He had whole-heartedly enjoyed every groan, shiver, and sharp inhalation Rufus had made. Each noise shot a jolt of heat to Tseng's groin, taunting him of the release to come.

When he first pressed a finger to Rufus' entrance, he savoured the way tightness enveloped him, nearly groaning in anticipation. Instead, he focused on the task at hand, preparing Rufus for his girth, wanting to make their joining as painless as possible. That was wishful thinking – it _was_ going to hurt, but his thoroughness guaranteed the pain would soon pass and be overruled by pleasure.

Feeling the muscle stretch, Tseng was finally satisfied with his work. Letting Rufus' member slip from his lips, he couldn't stop himself from growling,

"Fuck, Rufus…" letting him know he was nearly undone himself. Quickly, he slicked himself with lube, grasping Rufus' legs and spreading them apart. Heart pounding strongly in his chest, he held his breath as he pressed himself against the stiff ring of Rufus' opening, eyes widening slightly as the muscle gave and the tip of his arousal sunk in.

"Nnghhh…." Tseng couldn't stop a long groan from sneaking forth, gently easing himself in further and further. When Rufus' tensed, he pulled back so only the tip remained, thrusting shallowly. It would be far less painful if he loosened the President up inch by inch, instead of burying himself completely in him with one thrust.

Feeling the tight, hot walls relax around his length, he pushed in just a little deeper, allowing the muscle to loosen. It was pure _torture_. He measured his breaths and focused on Rufus' face instead of the sensations surrounding his shaft. By watching Rufus, he could fight off his release and see if there was anything besides the initial discomfort affecting the man beneath him.

After what felt like an eternity, he was buried to the hilt. Rufus' skin glistened with a fine sheen of sweat, blond bangs matted to his forehead. Bruise lips were slightly parted, full and tantalizing. Tseng allowed for a period of adjustment, taking time to rein in his own libido.

When he felt Rufus unclench, he began to thrust. Knowing Rufus was probably still in a state of discomfort, he angled his hips, hoping to give him a taste of what the pleasure could be.

"_Fuck_!" Rufus jumped, clawing at the sheets underneath him. Tseng wanted to grin as Rufus squirmed with ecstasy, but he was too close. He needed to focus on bringing Rufus to the end as quickly as possible, since he was not far himself.

"Tseng, _ah_!" Faster and harder, Tseng tried to hit that spot as often as possible. Rufus' pupils were dilated, cloudy with lust and so damn _blue_. And his name – Rufus kept calling his name, like a mantra. Begging, pleading, _needing_…

"_Please_ Tseng, more, _more_…" It was such a fucking _turn-on_. Who knew Rufus Shinra, virgin to men, could excite him so damn much. Tseng had wondered if the lack of experience would be a problem, but clearly not. Every breath, every moan – it _all_ went straight to Tseng's groin. Hips surging forward, the room was filled with the slap of flesh against flesh, Rufus' calls, and…

Tseng was undoubtedly losing it. His own voice broke forth in a fierce growl, rumbling deep within his chest. He was spouting jibberish, nonsensical words and noises, and worse – he couldn't _stop_.

"Fuck, _hnn_, _ahh_…Rufus! So tight, so, _so_, _so_…ah!"Rufus seemed to enjoy his lapse in power, because he clawed for him, needing to touch him, hands roaming over his shoulders, chest, hips. Nails dug into his buttocks, pulling him closer with each thrust. Tseng was going to damn near lose it soon.

Feeling the end approaching too swiftly, he grasped Rufus' weeping member, stroking it in time with his thrusts. Moans turned to whimpers, Rufus' hands tightening on his backside. With a muffled cry, Rufus came.

"_Nahhh_!" His body jerked underneath Tseng, sticky seed exploding forth to coat both their stomachs. Spasming still, Rufus clenched tightly around him, the shiver of his orgasm rippling through his channel. Tseng flushed as the walls around him contracted, stroking and clamping, pushing him right over the edge.

"_Fuuucccckkk_!" Tseng didn't recognize the yell as his own - he was blinded with absolute bliss as Rufus' entrance milked him of his essence. Spurting endlessly within him, Tseng quivered and tensed as he just kept coming, coming, _coming_. Black spots danced in his vision as he filled the sexy minx beneath him, knowing he was breathing raggedly and shaking from the force of his passion.

Exhausted, he let Rufus pull him down, lips meeting and tongues intertwining. It was a long while before Tseng pulled away, his shaft slipping out of his entrance, leaving a trail of his release in its wake.

"I am not going to be able to let you go after that." Tseng spoke, snaking his hand through blonde tresses. He indulged himself in Rufus' sweet mouth. _So good_. Pulling away, Rufus gazed at him with those impossibly blue eyes.

"Funny, I was just about to tell _you_ that."

What would he have done if Sasha had succeeded in her first attempt against Rufus? Tseng didn't even want to ponder it. Just remembering the way he had fallen to the floor, covered in too much blood – it chilled him to the bone.

Holding Rufus close, he felt his eyelids grow heavy with the need for sleep. It had been so _long _since he had a decent rest. The object of his concern for the past week was now sharing his bed, the weight of the world lifted.

Rufus had caught his eye, and the apparent need for sleep. Smirking, Rufus kissed him thoroughly. He was getting damn good at that.

"Go to sleep Tseng. You deserve it." Studying the President, it was obvious he was in the same state. Both needed some shut-eye badly.

After too much worry and chaos, Tseng allowed himself a rare moment of weakness. He let his eyes drift closed, President Rufus Shinra finally safe in his arms.

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A/N: I want to thank you all so much for reading Bullet Catchers, and for consistently reviewing. It has been such a pleasure reading everything you have to say, even if you just mentioned looking forward to the next chapter. Every message was motivating for me.

A personal thank you to those who left a review: Silent Deathbringer, ViviMouse, violetsake, Mirokou, BloodyPinkRose, Gismo1, TurkPrincess, becauseimthefavorite, sohma-kitty-10-14, Leonahari, Nachtliches Feuer, Kala Sathinee, Darkeyes, Qaddafi the Ripper, Anubis' Daughter, Emi to Mao 374, Lunael, Ali, Midnight Marquis, tio, Athenaion, DamonWesker, KHfujoshigirl98, Flawed Imagination, and the elusive 'reader'! To those who have read but not reviewed- also a heartfelt THANK YOU. You are not left out in my mind, every click on my story is appreciated!

Stay tuned for future stories, keep checking back as I start cooking up new ideas. I am open to story challenges if you want to send me an email (I can't promise I'll take it right away, but I will definitely consider it and work it through in my head).

If any of you are interested in Zack/Seph/Cloud fanfiction, I will be focusing for a bit on my other fic – 'To Be As Strong'. I can assure you that it'll NOT end up like a typical zxsxc fic, because that just ain't my style! Of course, I will also be brainstorming new Turk fics, because _really_ – they're the best.

Bye for now!

Jazzbo22

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